Mist never meant to find the forgotten art room in the north wing of her school. She never meant to meet Ken-the transfer student with distant eyes and the feeling of winter in his voice.
Yet from that day on, she keeps running into him in the stran...
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It felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from, one I had no control over.
I had lived through it more times than I could count with each ending the same way with the heat crawling up my body until it engulfed me completely, as if I were standing in the middle of hell.
There was no running.
There's no fighting back.
The moment the flames started, I already knew how it would end.
My mother once told me I was a misfortune to them, that accidents always happened when I was around. That was why she shut me out, to keep me from bringing harm to the rest of the family.
As much as the fire burned, her words had always hurt more.
The fire moved quickly this time. It started near the door, climbing the wall until the shelves caught, the paint tubes bursting one after another. The smell was thick of paint thinner, old wood, and canvas that stuck to the back of my throat.
Every breath scraped my lungs raw. I tried to keep my eyes open, but the smoke made them water until everything blurred.
A jar shattered in the corner, spraying flames across the floor. The boards groaned under the heat, and I could feel it through my shoes. Sweat ran down my back and gathered at my collar, but the air was so hot it felt like it was boiling off my skin.
The sun was setting. Through the east-facing window, I could see its golden light spilling into the room, cutting through the smoke in uneven streaks.
It touched the walls and the scattered paintings. I had always hated that color. It felt like the sun itself was mocking me.
My legs felt heavier the longer I stood. My chest ached with each breath. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear the fire alarm, but I knew no one would come in time.
No one ever did.
The heat closed in, the smoke pressed harder, and the edges of the room started to fade. I sank down to the floor, burning against my palms, but I didn't move them.
That golden light was still there, flickering through the smoke, and it was the last thing I saw before everything went dark.
Sometimes I wonder what I must have done in my past lives to end up stuck in this loop.
Maybe I was someone who deserved it.
The thought almost makes me laugh.
Maybe I burned down an entire city, and this is the universe's way of evening the score. Making me feel the flames over and over until it decides I've had enough.
