I can still see the bright flames piercing through my eyeballs. I can still feel its horrific heat against my skin. I’m laying in a hospital bed, listening to the steady beeping of various medical machines. Slowly, I move my hand up to touch the top of my head. I can feel small patches of hair growing out of heaps of deformed flesh. My fingertips move down to touch my face. All I feel is rough, peeling lumps of scar tissue.

I scream as loud as I can.

Nurses immediately come rushing to my bedside.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?!” They panick.

My mind rushes with thoughts, trying to remember things clearly.

“Where’s Sarah?” is what comes out of my mouth. A visual of her, surrounded by flames, crying comes back to me.

The nurse’s face immediately turns white and her lips curl downward. “She…didn’t make it.”

I can’t speak, can’t move, can’t think. Paralysis has completely taken over. I can hear the nurse calling me, but I can’t respond.

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