Fire

The heat woke me. At first it was a warm, cozy feeling that spread through my entire body. Then it got hotter. When I opened my eyes, it was searing hot. My whole body was burning. I cracked open my eye, and saw orange light. I shut my eye, eager to get back to sleep. I had work early tomorrow, and I didn’t want to be tired. Then it hit me. My eyes, both of them this time snapped open. There were orange flames licking my bed, stemming from the other side of my bedroom. The side with the door. The heat was incredible. I was in paper-thin pajamas, which didn’t offer any protection at all. Sweat appeared on my arms and face, only to evaporate.
I flicked my head side to side frantically, looking for a way out—there! The window! I ran over to it and grabbed the lock, clicking it open. But when I grabbed the window frame, it was burning hot, it was made of metal. I let out a frantic kind of bark, halfway between a yell and a scream. I’m going to die in here, I thought miserably, and then an idea! I ran back to the bed, and grabbing two sheets from my bed I wrapped them around my hands. Just as I tore them off, the fire caught up to my bed, burning the wooden frame to a crisp. I hurried back to the window, and wrenched it open. I climbed out, just as the flames shot across the room, enveloping my entire bedroom, swallowing my dresser,
I jumped down off the window, it wasn’t too high, about six feet off the ground. I landed in the wet grass, sticking my hands into the cool, healing mud. I hoped they were OK.
Someone yelling my name. “Jonathan! Thank God you’re all-right. I think Chrissie’s still inside! Oh God, I’m so worried!” It was Mrs. Hillkern, the lady next door. As soon as I heard that Chrissie was still inside, I jumped up and ran back into the apartment building. Chrissie was Mrs. Hillkern’s eight-year old daughter. I couldn’t let her die.
I followed the screaming and wailing through brightly lit corridors full of fire. I ran through flames, not caring if my feet were burned, I had to save her. She was on the second floor; she was in a bathroom. I scooped her up as a gigantic ball of fire shot upwards behind me and hit the ceiling. A huge section of wood came down, blocking my way out. I saw a window, and quickly opened it and climbed out. Standing on the sill, I realized a problem. The twelve feet from the second floor was a lot higher then the six from the first. I set Chrissie down next to me and thought.
A siren cut through my thinking like a butter through bread. Firemen. As soon as they arrived they set up a net. I felt a rush of relief. We were saved! I took Chrissie up in my arms, took a deep breath, and jumped. When we were about five feet from the net, the building exploded. I realized what was happening before it did and wrapped Chrissie in my arms. A blazing section of building came down, the end catching me on the leg. My leg snapped, I felt it break and I screamed in pain. Then I hit the net, baby and all.
I woke up in police custody. I looked around astonished. I couldn’t believe it. After a couple minutes, a man came in. He spoke, “Do you know why you are here?”
“No, I have no idea, please explain it to me,” I said, irritated. I needed proper medical attention. My leg hurt.
“Arson. We have two witnesses saying you set fire to the building, they saw you building a firebomb. They didn’t know what it was at first, but after the fire it was obvious. You started the fire, Jonathan,”
“Wait just one minute I didn’t—-oh,” I remembered. The voice, that told me how to make it, where to put it. I didn’t even know what it was. Oh—oh god. I snapped. I felt something in my head click, and I heard someone laughing maniacally. Then I realized it was me.
“Take him to the asylum,” Those words were spoken, and I was moved. I kept laughing until I blacked out, from lack of air. Then nothing.