Smoke and Fire

Part 1

I woke with a start, the smell of smoke filling my nostrils, heat slamming into my face, making me jump. I rolled out of my bed, away from the scorching heat and onto the stone floor. I looked around my room, and my door was in flames. The fire licked my ceiling with long tendrils, searching for something to burn.

'I NEED to get out of here!' I thought, raking my room with my eyes for any other escape route, as smoke billowed into my room through the remains of my bedroom door. The smoke covered my ceiling, building up, coming nearer and nearer to the floor. I frantically searched for an exit, and my watery eyes stopped on my window. I crawled desperately towards the window, the smoke threatening to cover me in a thick, hot blanket of ash. I reached the wall opposite of my bed.

'Just a little further,' I thought. Just as I scrambled underneath the window, the smoke engulfed me, stinging my eyes and clogging my lungs. I closed my eyes and held my breath as I ran my hand up the wall until I felt the cold glass beneath my fingers. I stood up, bracing myself against the window sill. Suddenly, a wave of scorching heat hit me so hard, I almost lost my footing. I knew the fire was in my room now, turning anything it touched into ash. I turned towards the window and felt along the side for the latch.

About half way up, my fingers touched white hot metal. I had no time to think about my hand right now, so I grabbed the latch and lifted it up to unlock the window, my hand screaming in protest. I flung the window open and tumbled out, feeling the flames hot on my heels. I gasped, taking in the fresh, cool night air. Then I gathered up the skirts of my nightgown and ran.

I ran away from the flames, my eyes forward, not looking back, fearing that I might see the flames racing after me. I ran, cradling my right hand in my left, which was throbbing with pain. I didn't dare look at it. I ran to the only place that the flames could not reach; the forest. I ran, dodging bushes and ducking branches as I ran deeper and deeper into the forest. I ran until my throat was dry and cold, and my legs were numb. I ran until I could see an open field on the other side of the trees. When I reached the edge of the forest, I collapsed into a heap, gasping for breath, letting my aching legs and feet rest. Once I caught my breath, I finally looked down at my hand. Immediately I knew it was a mistake. My palm and fingers were white and puffy, covered in blisters. The rest of my hand was beet-red.

Sick to my stomach, I looked away. I took a deep breath, trying to clear the image of my damaged hand from my head. Slowly, the pain started to set in. It grew from a dull numbness to excruciating pain. I cried silently, tears streaming down my cheeks. I clutched my hand to my chest in an attempt to ease the pain. My energy drained slowly as the pain ebbed. My vision started to blur as I struggled to remain awake. The environment around me gradually grew darker as I fought to keep my eyes open. I pushed against the darkness, but the harder I tried, the faster it grew. I pushed myself to my feet, trying to force myself to stay conscious. I placed my left hand on a tree to prevent myself from falling over. But despite my efforts, the darkness took over and I fell to the ground unconscious.