Scarred

Introducing Catherine

Dearest readers, 

I should warn you that I am related to three lawyers so don't steal this. Or I. will. find. you. And not only will I shred all your books, I will find a way to disconnect your wifi for good.

And yes, that is a valid threat.

Consider yourself warned.

Okai changin the subject thx ily enjoy the story ;) xoxo

Introducing Catherine:

I haven't worn a short sleeve shirt or shorts since the fire. Not even around my family. And I'm 15. Three hot and blistery California summers in jeans and long-sleeved shirts gets tiring.

Take it from me.

Gracie and Oliver are the only people who have seen my arms or legs in the past three years. Even around them I am nervous to show skin. Nervous they might finally see what I see: A monster. 

I'm Catherine, by the way. I'm 5'4, I have choppy blonde hair that hangs just below my ears and blue eyes. Somehow my face is normal. I'm lucky I fell face first onto the carpet when it happened or else life might be even worse. I don't even know if that's possible.

My mom and dad, Laurie and Mark Williams, try to help. They really do. But by taking me to ice cream and buying me and i-Pad and giving me everything they're actually making it worse. Not that I don't like having my own i-Pad, but I want to be treated normaly. 

But that's not possible, I'll never be normal again. 

Every now and then it will come back to me. On really hot days or when I hear a loud pitched sound. My lungs will tighten and I'll fall to the ground in fits.

Mom thinks therapy is what I need.

The therapysts always says they understand.

Everyone says they understand.

But they really don't. 

It's easy for them to say that I am beautiful and no one cares that I'm hideous because they aren't me. They don't look in the mirror and see what I see. 

My best friend Gracie is the only person I know who understands. She has cancer. She has had it for four years now. Her head is shaved, she walks with crutches and she has tubes stuck into her arms all the time. People stare at her. She can hide her bald head with a hat, but she can't exacly hide the tubes. In that way, I have it easier than Gracie. 

Oliver, my other best friend, also seems to get it. Nothing is wrong with him, but somehow he knows. He always cries when I'm sad, even though he's 16, and he doens't ever tell me that 'he's so sorry I have to deal with this' or 'it's whats on the inside that counts'. Somehow he has the ability to understand. He just... Knows. 

Neither of them were there when the fire happened. 

I think about it too often.

Gracie was at the doctors for her weekly check-up and Oliver was visiting his aunt in Maryland. I hated being at Winter Elementry without my friends, but it was 2:30, so school got out in a half hour. 

I was doodling in my math book. I used to love to doodle. Mr. Luu was talking about fractions or something and I was drawing a lady walking a poodle, I rememeber, when a shrieking bell rang out. People started screaming. It was so loud. I clamped my hands over my ears.

Was this a drill? No, Mr. Luu would have warned us. This was a real fire. 

I started to cry. I'm so usless in these kind of situations.

Mr. Luu begain shouting for us to get into a line. I tried to stand up, but kids were running around in the classroom and screaming. One, I'm not sure who, elbowed me hard in the eye. I saw Mr. Luu reach for the door handle and then yank his hand away. It had burned him.

The fire was right outside the door.

By this time every one was screaming and crying. The ringing was overwhelming. Small poofs of mist spiraled down from the cealing, but it wouldn't be enough to put out a fire. 

Mr. Luu was throwing chairs against the window, trying to break the glass. Mary was praying at her desk, tears streaming down her face. The door was crackling. Smoke was starting to fill the room.

I didn't know what to do. How could I help? 

All the sudden sparks sprayed across the room, along with a wave of numbing heat. The door snapped in half and the fire was inside.

My heart was either going a million miles an hour or not at all.

I knew I was going to die. 

Flame danced across the carpet. It reached the first desk, climbing up the wooden seat and snapping up Isacc's 49ers binder. 

I rolled out of my chair, coughing, onto the floor. The smoke was so thick and black I couldn't see Mr. Luu or anyone anymore. The fire alarm was still going off. My classmates were still screaming. I was in so much shock and terror I couln't even cry. 

Then the world was flickering. The heat became so intense I was breathing in pure hot-ness. I felt like I was melting, like my flesh was dripping from my bones. I screamed in agony. I coughed and sputtered, choked and gagged. I felt like someone had pored boiling water into my brain. 

Then everyhting burnt away.

When I woke up I was in a bright whie hospital, with tubes and blinking lights and monitors hooked to me in all different places. My whole body burned and throbed like the worst sunburn ever.

No, it was worse than that. It stung so badly it felt like I had fallen onto a bees nest and then rolled into the oven at 350 degrees.

And then I remembered what happened and everything seemed to get worse.

Then I becamse aware of the mask over my face, pumping air into my mouth.

Then I became aware of the feeling of someone rubbing shards of glass around inside my lungs.

Then I became aware of my black, bubbly looking skin. 

I tried to sob but it just turned into a hacking cough. Chunky blood filled my mouth. 

I knew life would never be the same again. 

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