Little Miss Babysitter

-- 8 --

The cold, midnight soil sloshed in between my toes, and I huddled around my mother for warmth. She was shivering slightly, her bare arms prickly and rough. The towering inferno before us seemed alien, surreal. Magnifying just what was going on inside my heart.

A harsh October breeze flitted across the lawn, brushing across me with it's talons. The dime shaped red spot on my wrist seemed to have reacted, as it burned with a newfound sense of dignity. I clutched it tightly, wincing at the pain.

"Is your wrist okay?" She said, monotoned, her face and voice both showing the same emotion;

Emptiness.

"It's fine. Don't worry 'bout it." I muttered quickly, the sirens in the distance blotting out the remainder of my sentence. An overwhelming sense of guilt swept over me for about the 20th time that night, and I closed my eyes.

How could I do this? I'm just that stupid! Ha-ha! Right?

"Do you have a marshmallow? Maybe we can make s'mores." She joked, trying to lighten the air around us. I doubt she even could. It's filled with smog and exhaust, enough to kill a baby bear. Thanks to me.

I let out a short exhale of breath, trying to forget what a laugh sounded like. My fault. My fault. My fault. 

My name is Ela Fischer, and I'm going to tell you about the day that I set my house on fire.

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(3   H O U R S   P R I O R)

The straw like sheets curled around my limbs, wrapping and unwrapping around me like a serpent. I stretched and pulled, aggravation quickly about to exert itself in the form of a scream, when a rip sounded out, and then I was covered in bits and piece of blue fabric.

Smooth.

I sighed, flopping down onto my bed, and trying to relax.

Okay, okay. It's... 10:30 now. Why can't I fall asleep?

I took well deserved deep breaths, and calmed myself so that my raging muscles would unclench a bit. The distant tick of a clock made me anxious, almost counting the seconds in which I wish I had been asleep.

You have school tomorrow, you need to get to sleep.

I starred open eyed at the dirtied ceiling, somehow having black splotches of something on it from years ago. The star shaped stickers glowed evidently with a neon green light, shining brighter than a disco ball. I'd placed them up there when I was a child.

Oh, and after Taya's 16th, I still keep the one from the dance floor as a souvineer. In the attic.

I'm sure the club knows that I took it. I'm sure....

Ela, you need to go to sleep. I don't know who you are, thinking about Taya and stealing the disco ball, but go. TO. SLEEP!

I snapped my eyes shut, my tiresome self begging the nightmare demons to bring me down and into their clutches. Even if I do have nightmares, at least I'll be asleep!

I stayed there silently, praying for my subconscious to take over and show me the depths of the world of the sleeping, when a buzzer rang out, and I sprang up from my bed, panting in the cold air.

A faint light from my nightstand shone out against the blackness of my room, and I scrambled for the sorce.

Of course it's my phone.

'Can't sleep?' Read the monitor, the sender being 'Taya McCapherdy is awsum!!!'

'How'd you know?' I giggled while sending it, biting my bottom lip. Habit? I'd assume so.