The Last Words

"I hate you! I wish you were no long apart of my life!" She yelled as she whipped up her phone and ran away from her parents. They stood dumbfounded, her mother slightly leaning against the fridge. Her father lighting up a cigarette, and shaking his head at his daughter. 

They don't understand. They never will, and that's ok, I dont need them. Amber thought to herself as she applied her scarelette lipstick. She puckered her lips to her mirror, wishing it was Johnny who she was puckering up to. Johnny, the reason she was in this fight right now. 

Amber was 16, and already felt as if she found the one. Johnny changed Amber from a sweet little girl, into a girl who didnt care. Instantly grades were dropping, and school was being skipped. She started dressing weird, and acted rude. Her natural blonde hair was dyed black, and her face was always covered in makeup. 

She was not raised this way. Her mother owned a fashion company, and was very prim and proper, while her father owned a very classy company. Amber knew she was making her parents mad by her actions, which is why she continued them. She wanted to rebel, to prove she was her own person, but she took it too far. 

Johnny wanted to marry her, and she agreed. Her parents were not pleased. Amber didn't care, Amber was her own person and didn't need her parents. She had Johnny, which was all that mattered. 

Amber lay down in her bed in her big room. She lived in a victorian, in a nice neighbourhood. Her house was white with a fat deck placed in the front. A fancy backyard layed against a pond that Amber remember sitting cross legged staring at the beautiful sunset with her parents as a child. 

Her parents missed those days. They gave Amber everything. A big house, anything she wanted and their love. They just wish Amber returned the affections. 

While texting a friend Amber heard a slight scream. She propped herself up onto her arms, and listened carefully. The house seemed quiet. "Mom?" She called. "Dad?" 

No response. She picked herself off her bed and went to reach for the door handle. She froze at the scent that arrived in her room. Smoke seemed to have reached her second story bedroom. 

"What the hell?" She muttered to herself. She touched the doorhandle, and quickly jerked her hand back. 

"Damn!" She yelled as she shook her hand. Her door handle had burnt her. She quickly thought back to her fire training, and realized the signs. Her house was on fire. 

She quickly ripped a sheet off of her bed and yanked open the door. She was immediately overwhelmed  by smoke. Her eyes teared as she pulled her shirt over her nose and mouth. "Mom! Dad!" She yelled. Her lungs began to burn with the smoke filtering upstairs. 

She looked down her stairs. The smoke seemed heaviest from the kitchen. Panic stricken she ran down the stairs. She quickly became overwhelmed from the smoke. She rounded the corner leading into the kitchen. Her parents were know where to be seen, and she knew that they would have been in the kitchen when the fire started. 

But how did the fire start? She asked herself. She thought back. Dad might have lit a cigarette when I said... I said that I hated him. Amber thought sadly. Hope hit her harder than bricks, hoping that her parents made it out. 

The flames grew bigger, as a huge bang threw her back. Pieces if metal poured down, and burnt her skin. She cried in pain as she picked herself up. Intoxicated by the smoke she ran to the front door. She heard sirens, and as she reached for the handle she stopped. She touched it quickly with her free hand and immediatly yanked her hand back. It was scolding hot, no hope of getting out there, at least without help.