Out of the Ordinary│lachlan power

Chapter 4 ~ They Are Back

Lachlan's POV

Desiree wasn't crying, though her eyes were a little bit glassy. But that wasn't all sadness. That was mostly anger.

The flames she glared at reflected onto her usually happy, light brown eyes, and made them look coal black with fire dancing in them, too. She stood for a few minutes, watching it all fall apart.

"No..." she whispered, taking a grasp of her hair, then screamed, "NO!" as if realizing something.

She darted into the house before I could stop her.

"DESIREE! STOP! DON'T GO IN!" I screamed and ducked in after her.

Desiree's POV

I just watched my house burn to ashes.

Was this for the greater good? Letting the flames burn the house along with bad memories with it?

But there were also things in there worth keeping. I can't let those burn.

I screamed in distress, confused what to do, then realized that I have to go in to save the useful and precious. I ducked under the falling doorway and headed in. Lachlan screamed my name to come out, but that wasn't stopping me.

I found that the ceiling was falling quick, sort of like an hourglass that will suffocate me if I don't hurry.

I collected all of the precious things I had wished to save: my mother's diary, my father's watch, my sister's bracelet, a few changes of clothes, my jewelry box full of various things, my journal or sketch pad with writing, and a bunch of other things I valued or needed. I stuffed it all into my bag and began to find my way out.

Flames caught onto some of my clothing, but I just brushed it off. A painting fell onto my head and shattered, leaving glass scratches on my head and the back of my neck. I winced, but carried on.

I reached the door, but it was barricaded by planks that fell from the ceiling. So were the windows. I had to find a way out. Now. The smoke was filling my lungs, and I couldn't breathe well.

"D-Desiree!" I whipped around. Lachlan was motioning for me to come to him. I ran and followed him. He found a vent in the wall at a good enough height to climb through.

"Do we break it? I th-think we should both yank it open," I shouted over the noise of crackling flames and coughed. Lachlan nodded and counted down on his fingers.

On five, we yanked the vent open, revealing a hole big enough to crawl in and out of the burning house.

"Ah, so you have found a way out? Good, let us come with you," a malicious sounding voice said.

There was a thump somewhere, then Derek appeared along with two other Populars. The Populars had a piece of the fallen wooden ceiling, but the worst thing was that Derek had a knife. A freaking knife.

"Oh, Desiree, why was it that you had to punch me? You obviously knew the rules of messing with Populars," Derek sneered, swaying the knife dangerously.

Lachlan eyed the knife wearily.

"You have a knife. Are you going to kill us?" I asked, showing no signs of weakness.

"Good suggestion. But sadly, no. I was merely planning on scaring you off for your own good, maybe some suffering if needed."

"Why? You've already been such a jerk enough," Lachlan argued.

"Shut up, Aussie," one of the Populars spat.

"Yes, quiet down now, or else you will receive the same treatment as Miss Mariano here." Lachlan glared at him.