Authors: Tarisa Marie
"I'd like to write. Create my own worlds and characters and stuff, you know? That's what I'd like to do for fun. My dad calls it having an over active imagination. He doesn't support it. He just really doesn't get it," he tells me sadly. "He’s a uh businessman. He wants me to follow in his footsteps, go to some fancy school, you know, like my sister. I hoped her going to Harvard would take the pressure off of me. I thought wrong." He sighs. "There's no way that I'll get into one of those schools with my grades anyhow, but he will probably pay my way in just because he’s like that." He shakes his head in disgust. "I don't even want to go to school, any school. I just spent the last twelve years of my life in school, why would I want to waste any more of my life? It's short, you know, life? Why not spend it doing what you want to do?"
I 'm surprised by how much I've come to genuinely like Nathan Walters in these short few minutes I've talked to him.
"I agree," I nod.
"What about you?" he asks with a frustrated sigh.
"What?"
"What do you like to do? Party? Enter fashion shows? Count carbs?" he mocks. I almost burst out laughing, he couldn't be more wrong.
"No, none of that actually. I like baking...and eating. I do a little Zumba too I guess. Uh...other than that...I work?" I admit. I don’t tell him that I’m a black belt or that I’m pretty decent in about ten other fighting styles. It’s not something that my dad likes me to share with others. He says that the weaker people think I am, the better chance I will have if it comes to a real fight. But if this kid or nearly anyone tried to pull a move on me, I’d have them down on the floor screaming in pain in less than a second, no matter how strong they were. The majority of people on this planet aren't trained to kick ass. I think all my training is a bit of overkill. The older I get the more I seem to think that my dad is just being overprotective with this whole self-defense thing. I mean, who makes their children do hours upon hours of ‘warrior’ training a day starting when they are four? Seems like severe overkill to me. But I don’t argue with my dad. I
never
argue with my dad. I know he is just trying to protect me and I love him for that. The exercise and quality time with him is good for me anyways.
"Ah. He smiles. "You're different."
"Gee thanks," I say sarcastically.
"I mean, you're different than most girls in this city," he reassures me.
"Well thanks...I think," I say confused.
He grabs another brownie and shoves it into his mouth. I start to feel some of the alcohol kick in and I make a mental note to slow down. The last thing I need is to pass out at my prom and have them expel me from school for drinking or something.
"So where do you work?" he asks through a full mouth.
"At a little pet store by my house. I basically just clean up dog crap." I shrug.
"What do you want to do after you graduate...keep cleaning up crap?"
"Ew, no thanks. I don't really know what I want to do after school," I tell him honestly. To be truthful, it isn't something I've thought much about. My father hasn't ever really pushed me and I guess I've never really imagined leaving home. It’s something most parents push their kids to do and it surprises me that with how much my father pushes me to do things like to practice fighting, get a job at 14, and hell, go to my prom, that he hasn’t ever really mentioned post-secondary education.
"Hey, Ariella! I've been looking for you all night!" shouts a female voice over the pounding music. I glance over to meet the eyes of Mya Sinclair, one of my good friends.
"Hey Mya, this is Nathan," I introduce them.
"Oh, I know, you're in my gym class actually!" she nods and shakes his hand.
"My date ditched me for some other chick but whatever, he was a drag anyhow," she exclaims, trying to hide her annoyance. "Speaking of drags, why are you guys just standing here, why aren't you dancing?"
"Not our thing," I reply, matching her loud tone over the music.
"Too bad, they're playing some pretty good stuff!" she says sadly and pours some punch for herself, guzzling it down. "Hey, so I wanted to find you to tell you that I'm having an after party at my place. I texted you but you never texted back so I wanted to make sure you got it. I think I'll leave here around midnight to make sure everything is set up but I'm sure my dad has it all ready to go. I think he's more excited than I am. So you can come any time after that," she tells us with a laugh. "Puhlease make an appearance, both of you, and bring friends. I'd hate to have nobody show up. That'd be sooo embarrassing," she cringes, while putting her empty cup into the garbage can beside the snack table and swaying her hips to the music. Apparently I'm not the only one who's had a couple sips of alcohol tonight.
"Alright! Maybe!" I call as she makes her way back into the crowd of dancing people.
Nathan is eyeing the brownie platter like he's about to grab another one but he's not sure if it's a good idea or not. I don't falter, I grab the biggest one there and take a bite off of the end.
"You must have an awesome metabolism," he mutters just loud enough for me to hear. "If I have another I'll probably gain fifty pounds."
"Zumba," I say through brownie. "Works wonders. You should try it."
"So you take Zumba classes?" he asks, sounding shocked by my earlier claim.
"No. I just do it my bedroom. Alone. Like an idiot. I basically just make up my own moves and jam out." It’s kind of true. Except I at least have a trainer, my father and I’m actually talking about martial arts but I mean, fighting and dancing are kind of close right?
He raises an eyebrow skeptically but says nothing.
"Wow, I actually can't believe I just told you that!" I giggle louder realizing how big of a dork my last statement made me sound like and nearly choke on my snack.
Now he laughs too. "I can picture that actually. Like you prancing around and singing into a hairbrush or something. But wait, I thought you said you don't dance?"
"Not in public!" I cry, hastily fixing my error. Duh. You’re here not dancing because you hate to dance, then he asks what you like to do and you tell him dancing. You idiot.
Soon we are both nearly in tears laughing like morons about things that aren’t even funny.
"I have to be honest. I thought tonight was going to be the most painful night of my life. Turns out it's started off to be just the opposite." He gives me a smile, raising one half of his mouth.
Is he flirting with me? Or am I just imagining it? Of course he's not! Why would he, Ari? You told him you have dance offs with yourself in your bedroom for heaven sakes!
"What do you think about going to that after party of your friends after this?" he asks, almost sounding nervous. He totally
is
flirting with me, isn’t he?
I debate it and when I don't answer right away his smile falters.
"Sure, why not, right? It's not like we're going to have another senior prom. I'll text my dad and ask him, but I'm sure he'll be fine with it," I inform him and pull my phone from my small clutch bag. It only takes dad a second to reply and give his approval. I also read the message Mya sent earlier about the party that I never replied to.
"Sounds like a plan!" I confirm with Nathan.
Suddenly all of the colorful, flashing lights that light up the entire room like a dance club go dark, leaving the room in a near pitch black state aside from a few small moving lights which I assume are coming from people's cellphones. The music cuts out simultaneously and a few people begin shouting 'BOO!' as if that'll somehow help the situation. The room instantly fills with confused and upset chatter. Has the power gone out?
A few of the supervisors and teachers begin trying to calm everyone down while some of the other chaperones try and assess the problem. Who knows, maybe someone tripped over the cord and unplugged the entire DJ system. I mean, that would be something I would do, ruin the dance because of my clumsiness. I instantly check the floor by my feet for any cords I might have stepped on by shining my own phone around for a little light. I'm in the clear.
Then, I notice something small and orange-colored light up in the far back corner of the stage about the size of a softball.
"Do you see that? On the stage in the far corner? What is that? The power must not have went out, something else must’ve happened. It looks like a light of some sort," I shout to Nathan over the screaming. He takes a step closer to me. Just as I finish talking, the orange-colored object expands and seems to climb up the black curtains coating the walls behind the stage. I'm quick to realize that it's fire. Something must've short circuited or overheated by the fabric curtains and set them aflame. I momentarily wonder how it's spreading so quickly but shake it off when I hear the screams louden as others begin to panic.
Everyone begins screaming and pointing. It's not long before students are being hustled out of the building through its one double-doored entrance and into the fresh air. Smoke begins to fill the room and the people nearest to the flames begin coughing. Nathan and I are at the far back wall and out of the smokes reach but only for now.
I feel a hand wrap around my forearm and he begins dragging me towards the doors.
"Hurry, Ariella! Look how fast that's spreading. It's like someone poured gasoline all over the building! We won't make it out if we don't hurry!" Nathan demands and I quit resisting his pull, realizing that he's only trying to help me.
The flames have now somehow spread up to the ceiling engulfing it in flames too. Chunks of debris begin falling from above as the flames burn.
The smoke soon becomes so dense that I can barely even see the stage anymore. What is going on?! My heart speeds up as my adrenalin kicks into gear and I cover my mouth and nose with one of my dress' bottom layers as we rush towards the doors. Of course, the doors are at the far end of the room beside the stage, where nothing is visible and the flames are spreading towards much too quickly. I realize we don't have minutes, we only have seconds and I begin pushing and shoving my way through the crowd alongside Nathan. By now, people aren't just panicking, they're freaking the hell out as they come to the same realization that I have—we won't all make it out. The flames light up the room and where the smoke has not yet reached, I can see people pushing and shoving through the crowd for their lives like Nathan and I are. I don't waste too much time glancing around as I can't afford to waste any time at all.
I get knocked down a couple of times and expect Nathan to leave me there to get trampled but he helps me back up and continues to pull me forward. Thank god this big burly guy asked me to prom and not some little stinker who hadn't hit puberty yet.
I decide that this is not the time to be pretending that I’m a weak little girl. I use my strength from many years of weight training to help Nathan push through the crowd. He doesn’t seem to notice that I’m abnormally strong, then again why would he? We’re trying to escape with our lives. There are more important things to be worrying about right now.
Then, the absolutely unthinkable happens and when I say that, I mean exactly that. I watch through the smoke as a blonde-haired boy right beside me gets thrown upwards towards the flames on the ceiling as if the room has lost all sense of gravity. I hear his screams as the flames burn at his flesh. I try to hold in my own screams but cannot. Please tell me that I'm not the only one who just saw that.
"What the fuck?!" someone cries, assuring me that they’ve seen it happen too.
"We have to get out of here. NOW!" Nathan shouts.
I gaze up at the ceiling at the boy’s half burnt body for only a moment before snapping out of it and pushing the incident behind my mental wall so that I can focus on survival.
Thanks to Nathan, we are nearing the door. The room is emptying much quicker than one would think possible, or maybe we’ve just managed to push up to the front of the crowd and there are still tons of people behind us. I have no idea and I'm not about to pause and look back, not that I'd be able to see anything now anyways. The smoke has gotten so dense that my eyes are watering and stinging furiously.
I begin coughing. I can't breathe. I know you're supposed to 'stop drop and roll' when there's a fire, but let’s be reasonable, if I do that right now, I will be trampled to death.
Elbows and fists fly into us as we continue to push through people.
My heart picks up pace again and I realize that I'm about to have a panic attack. I'm not sure if it's because of what I just witnessed or if it's because I can no longer breathe but I decide that I have to push it away so I can be strong and think clearly and so I can make it out of here. Maybe some of dad’s lessons haven’t for nothing after all. My lungs burn and throb, as does my throat as I desperately try to suck in clean air.
Then, I see a little bit of light and I know that we're only footsteps away from the double doors that will bring us into fresh air. Why in the hell would whoever built this building only put in one stinking door?! Are they not aware that this is a huge safety problem? Was it not required to put multiple exits when they built it? How are this many people expected to leave this room at once in the chance of a fire?
I hear sirens outside over the screaming behind me. Are the emergency vehicles are already here? How much time has passed? I realize that I don't have any idea...seconds, minutes? I don't even know.