I watched as the fire leapt across the couch, burning along the floorboards.
"Blake, we need to get out!" I screamed, turning and running back down the stairs. "There's fire upstairs too. We need to get Gwen and get out."
"What? No, we can save the house. Just be a little faster, Rose." He spat. I let out a scream of frustration.
"Blake you fucking idiot put aside your ego for one second. You can't fucking save it. It's just going to get hotter and faster, and soon enough we won't have a way out."
"Then we'll stay down here. Wait it out. I can afford to cover the damages." Blake said, adamant to prove me wrong. I shook my head.
"Blake," I said, my voice filled with desperation.
He finally looked at me fully, then looked up the stairs, then finally down at Jackson.
"Alright. You're right. We need to get out of here," He said, sounding almost scared.
That was all I needed to hear. I started running. But not upstairs. Back into the torture room. To help Gwen.
No matter what she had done to me, I wasn't going to leave her to die. I reached her side and tried to lift her, but failed. The smoke in the air was getting thicker, the fire raging, taking over the bed and jumping to the cupboards nearby.
I had to get us out of there, but I didn't have the strength. Then Blake came through the smoke and went to her other side, helping me lift her.
Together, we carried her out. She was awake, but weak, and tried to use her feet to help us but could hardly move. Before we went into the kitchenette I ran into what was my room and pulled the sheet to wrap around Gwen's wax-covered bare skin.
We made it back out to the kitchenette, where Jackson was still standing at the bottom of the stairs, crying. He cried harder when he saw Gwen.
"Mummy!" He cried out, running over and hugging her. Despite her pain she managed to lean down and hug him back.
The peaceful moment was shattered when we heard the loud CRASH of the bed collapsing down the hall, followed by a similar sound from somewhere upstairs.
Blake looked up at me. "Rose, we need to get out of here."
I nodded, and quickly crouched down at Jacksons side as he peeled away from his mum. I took his little hand and gave him a reassuring smile.
"Jackson, we're going to be alright but I need you to do something for me. Just like we played all day, we're going to play another game, where we crouch down and run as fast as we can. Do you think you can do that for me?"
He nodded, sniffling.
I smiled at him. "Good. Run away from the fire, okay? Run to the ballroom, and wait for us there."
"Where will you be?" He asked, scared.
"We'll be right behind you, buddy, but we have to carry mummy so we'll be slower. The important thing is that you get to the ballroom, okay?" I said.
He nodded. "Okay."
I looked up at Blake and he nodded at me. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Blake, we have to call 911."
His eyes flashed with fear. "No, Rose. We can't. If they show up with Gwen like this..."
I sighed in frustration, "We have to! They might be able to help us! Please, we need-"
"No Rose. The phone is upstairs. It's not happening."
I set my jaw, looking down. "Fine. Let's just go then."
He propped Gwen up on his shoulder and I grabbed her other side. I nodded at Jackson. "Go."
He started running up the stairs and we followed. The smoke was thick, and the air was hot, but we managed to get through it, and out into the open hallway across to the ballroom. When we were in the clear, I stopped, and peeled Gwen's arm from my shoulder.
"Rose, what are you doing?" Blake said, his voice a warning tone.
"I'm sorry. I have to." I said, my voice hoarse from the smoke.
Before he could argue, before he could put Gwen down and grab me, I started to run.
Back into the smoke. Back into the fire.
My eyes stung, and I couldn't tell if it was from the smoke or from the weight of what I'd just done.
I half expected Blake to run after me, to follow me into the flames, but he didn't.
He let me go.
When I got to the house, the fire had spread, exponentially. Jackson's room, closest to the kitchen, was spilling out with flames, and it seemed like the walls themselves we're burning. I could hardly see through to the lounge room, but I knew it was the same, completely ablaze. It would only be a matter of time before it burnt upwards, to Gwen's room and the upstairs area of the house.
That was where I had to go.
Remembering the lessons of 'hot air rises' I ducked down, covering my face with the sleeve of Blake's shirt, that I was still wearing from when he had dressed me in it that morning.
The floor was hot under my bare feet as I ran, but I kept going.
Some part of me needed to get that phone.
As I passed the lounge room a raging flame reached out and threatened to burn me but I stumbled away from its reach and made it to the stairs.
My heart hammering in my chest, I climbed, the air getting hotter and the smoke getting heavier the higher I went. It thinned out once I pushed open the hallway door and ducked in, but my eyes still stung, and the air felt hotter than the sun.
From somewhere downstairs, I heard another crash, and my heart jumped into my throat. I had seen houses collapsing from fires in movies, and I was terrified that it would happen to this one, while I was still in it.
I pushed through nonetheless. I made it to the office and tried the handle, terrified it was locked. To my relief, it opened easily, and I scrambled inside. Blake's phone was sitting on his desk, on top of a handful of pictures and papers. I grabbed it and me heart leapt into my throat. The photos were taken of girls, naked and restrained, in the darkness but for the flash of the camera. Accompanying the pictures were pages of information on them, names, measurements, medical information.
I was frozen, staring at it all, when a BANG broke me from my daze. This sound was different from the others. It was like something was exploding downstairs, and suddenly, the air got ten times hotter.
Somehow, I knew that fire had made it upstairs.
I fumbled with the phone and managed to dial 911 on the emergency pad, turning away from the papers and trying to focus on the task at hand.
"911 what's your emergency?"
I froze for a second, wanting to say so much, but not knowing wear to start. After a minute, the operator spoke again, sounding a little tired, or worried, or annoyed. I couldn't decide.
"Can I help you?"
I forced myself to speak. Focus at the problem at hand. "I'm in a burning building. I need help." I gasped, struggling to speak. Tears threatened to spill, and I just wanted to scream, but I had to focus on the call.
"Alright ma'am, you're in Buena Vista, correct?"
"Yes. Just north. The Ivy residence." I said, feeling a sob build up in my throat.
"Okay, ma'am, we're alerting the local authorities. They'll be on their way and minute."
"But- the snow!" I sobbed. "They can't get through."
"Miss, we have measures in place to get through. You're going to be alright. Are you still in the building?"
I sobbed, glancing back at the photos. "Yes. I'm upstairs."
"Alright, Miss, it's not safe in there. Is there any way you can get out?"
"B-but the photos-" I gasped, tears filling my eyes. It was getting harder to breathe, the smoke thicker and the air hotter. The person on the receiver spoke with a calm authority.
"Don't worry about any photos or memorabilia, Miss, the important thing is that you get our as fast as you can. Your life is more important than that house."
I sobbed, and nodded, turning away from the desk. "Okay, I'm going."
In a daze, barely able to see what I was doing through my tears, I stumbled back down the stairs, breaking into coughs but pushing through. I had to get to the door. I had to get out.
Like I'd expected, the ceiling was burning, fire making its way upstairs. I knew the longer I was in there, the more likely the house would collapse with me inside.
I suddenly felt weak in the knees, and a coughing fit took over. Unable to stop it, I collapsed on the floor. I stayed there for a moment, frozen, terrified that this was it, that the fire would overtake me.
Then I heard the lady's voice down the receiver, telling me to hang in there, telling me that help was on the way.
That was enough to keep me going. I started crawling, pulling myself along the floor, my eyes blurred and my head pounding.
I could see the door, a few metres away, and I clenched my eyes shut as I scraped along, trying to use the last of my energy to get there.
It was so hot, and so loud. The fire was raging around me, reaching towards my skin in desperate tendrils of flame.
I opened my eyes again and through the pain I could see the door in front of me. I mustered all of the strength I had left and pulled myself up, pulling open the door.
It swung open and I stumbled out, my legs weak. The snow was thick, but I trudged through it, pushing down the path until I was far enough from the house that the air was cool again. Then, I collapsed, letting the snow soothe my burning skin and cool me down. I looked back up at the house as the fire took it over, the flames visible even through the mirrored glass.
"I made it..." I muttered to no one at all. I was in shock, my head spinning. Breathlessly, I muttered, "I'm free."
I couldn't help but laugh at the feeling of elation that rushed through me, but the action made me collapse into another coughing fit, and tears filled my eyes.
I looked up at the sky in a daze.
The last thing I remember was watching the twilight sky as dark snow clouds drifted overhead.
And in the distance, the sound of a helicopter, lifting up into the air.
I let my eyes drift shut.