Fevered

1st of January. (Midnight)
Chapter 4: New Year
It's 1997! 1996 has been quite an overwhelming year. I don't know why I can't see Aaliyah. Mummy said she went against the law and only bad people go against the law, but I don't think Aaliyah is a bad person, she's the nicest person in the world. She would never hurt anybody on purpose. It's a lot to take in for a 13-year-old. I miss her.

Chapter 5: Steps
One step, two steps, three steps. Bang. A harrowing fire burned me from my head to my heart. Like the harrowing fire that burned my friends. And I cry inside because if I cry on the outside I'd be punched, kicked and left for dead in my cell. Who'd care anyway, it's not like I have a life to live after? My titian jumpsuit itched, but it was as soft as a peach. My tears swiftly trickled down my cheek but I was too numb to feel it. I was numb all over, from head to toe. Lubricant locks tumbling downside by my neck and inmates hovering over me with hairy, intimidating expressions fixated on me. It was chilling. It was horrendous. It was home. Every day I wake up feeling that numb feeling, with the fire burning me inside to a crisp. I'd be forgotten. All I could do was do it again and again and again..until the ongoing numbness and fire killed me and burned me up. Three steps, four steps, five steps. "Hello Aaliyah," muttered unknown voices in sync behind me. Agitated, I jump and fleetly twist my dazed body around. There they were. My friends. My people. My real home. About to open my mouth and give a vast smile, black smudges etched themselves into my fiery mind. Then it all went black. I'd reached the 9th step and the numbness in my body couldn't take it anymore. Weakness had built up in me and this 'surprise' made my body give up. I couldn't take everything that had happened in a few days and still be that energetic, contented teenager that I was once before.
Rising from my bed, I realise I'm not in the same bleak, pungent cell anymore. I'm in a hospital bed. With cords hooked onto my arms and legs. I had a breathing mask on my face and an unpleasant tube in my throat. Wails of melancholy and downfall were what the atmosphere was like, but the environment made me happy. I was in a safe place, despite everything. Puzzled I was there, Ricky wandering around the room and playing around the curtain certainly gave me comfort. "You're awake!" exclaimed Ricky merrily as he formed a warm smile on his face.
Unable to talk because of the oxygen mask, I gave a slight shuffle to say I could move and all. I felt at ease. The numbness drifted away and my thoughts returned to me. They were all alive. Every single one. But how? It couldn't be possible. I  was dreaming. Right?
I began to recall the traumatic moment of the fire. I didn't look back once as I fled Avon Cherish Bank. I had no idea of what was going on behind me as I dashed outwards. I had just assumed they were the ones being shoved into a body bag. No time for questions, this was a day I'd never forget. This was the first time in days that my eyes twinkled so bright and I wanted to smile. I didn't need to make that 10th step on my own anymore, because I had my friends to take that step with me.
"Thank god you're alive! We'd thought you died when you passed out in your cell," gasped Ricky
At the time he had said that he'd already been walking towards my wearisome bed to leisurely remove my aggravating welder's mask.
"Sorry for discomfort Liyah," apologised Rick as he steadily withdrew the irritating tube from my pharynx.
Coughing repugnantly, I gasped for fresh air frantically and stabilised myself in my bed. My eyes bounced off the walls and right back to Ricky, then back at the ceiling again. The 'fresh air' actually smelt sterile and bitter, with the undertones of artificial fragrance contained in soaps and cleaners. In my room, the scent became more intense and diverse than what was downstairs, but I distinctively remember going up the elevator and rivers of people swarming me, and the smell got more severe.
"Do you know what day it is?" questioned Ricky, standing at the foot of my bed while smiling heavily.
"N-no..?" I muttered, glaring at the wires attached to my hands and the stains of blood smeared across.
"It's the 4th of January, your birthday!" Shrieked Rick, looking like a Tyrannosaurus rex roaring in my ear. "Oh," I whispered.
I didn't care, I just need my family, not a balloon and a glass of squash. Although that itchy numbness I had felt for days had been gone, I still didn't feel at full ease. I had my friends back, wasn't in a cell, and wasn't dead. But that lost feeling still lingered in my presence. And it would not leave. I didn't have my family, I didn't have my home and I didn't have me. I didn't have me because I hadn't felt like myself ever since the 'incident'. It was like a puzzle, I'd filled every other place in the puzzle except for the biggest piece, my heart. It hadn't been filled so therefore I was empty. Lost in my coal-black world. Ordering Ricky to leave the room, I finally had time to gather these inescapable thoughts. My questions were unanswered and I had a feeling they never would be. Ugh. Life can be painful, even to the wealthy.   
Chapter 6: Missing
Missing her. Missing him. Missing them. Missing me. I missed David. I missed Mum and Dad. I missed home. All I wanted to do was slowly collapse onto my warm bed at home and block out all the chaos. But I could not block it out this time. Instead, I was laying on a clinic bed, unable to move, unable to shout for my mother. I missed everybody, but no one missed me. I thought everyone who was once in my life was gone, but I was the one gone. Because I was missing. Not them. And I could not do a thing about it.