I blink open my eyes, but all I can see is a crowd of grey that seems to be coming in from under the door. What the hell?
Am I dreaming?
My lungs choke up again and I scramble off the bed, my body weak from lack of oxygen.
Oh my god.
Fire!
I race to the door and pull it open, wincing when the metal handle burns the palm of my hand.
My feet carry me to the stairs as I cover my mouth with my shirt.
Orange… all I see is orange and red. The walls are glowing.
The bottom of the stairs are completely engulfed in flames.
Fear grips me as I slam the door and think back to the lessons I took in school.
What to do during a fire. Why didn’t I pay attention? I can picture it now, next to the school board. There were pictures… step by step guides on what to do. But I was ten! Why didn’t they teach me again?
Think Gwen, think!
Fire brigade. Block the edges of the door with blankets to keep the smoke out. Open the window.
The window is probably the first thing I should do.
No. The fire brigade!
It’s so hot, my hands are clammy and the burn on my palm is stinging.
I pick up my phone and dial 999. “I need the fire brigade now!” I bark out the address, tell her I’m at the top, that there’s no way out, and quickly pad the area around the door.
“Where are you in the house?”
“Third floor. There’s no way out.” The reality of the situation sinks in and it takes everything I have not to panic.
“Is there a bathroom?” She asks and I look towards the en-suite.
“Yes.”
“Wet your clothes, block the edges around the door and open the windows. Stay on the line. Keep low to the ground.”
Wet clothes.
Block the edges around the door and open the windows.
The window in here is too small… shit!
I race back into the bedroom wrapped in a soaking towel. The heat… god… it’s too much to bear.
I can’t see anything. My eyes are burning.
The window won’t open. I try to lift the handle, but it’s locked. I’m going to have to break it. But with what?
It’s too hot. I can’t think. There’s nothing in here I can use except the chair and I can’t lift it.
I pound on the glass, the heat drying my tears before they can leave my eyes.
Somebody’s out there. Maybe he’s called for help too!
Who is that?
I slam my hands against the glass over and over. I scream as loud as my lungs will allow. Why’s he just sitting there? Do something!
I check my phone, ready to tell the woman there’s somebody outside, but the line must have failed. There’s no one talking to me now.
The air is too thick with smoke, it burns.
I drop down to my belly, praying that the smoke has risen enough for me to get two short breaths of oxygen at least. It’s in vain.
My phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and place it to my ear. “Nathan?”
“Gwen?” He sounds panicked. “Where are you?” Is it him outside?
“I… I’m trapped. Your house, it’s on fire.” I cough, my lungs filling with burning ash. There’s no more air in here.
“I’m on my way; I’m two minutes away,” he shouts and I hear the gear stick jam as he tries to shift it too quickly. “Where are you baby? Talk to me?”
“I…” I try to inhale; I try to release another breath.
“Baby, I need you to tell me where you are.”
“Y… your room. Window, won’t open.”
“Okay, go into the bathroom,” he orders softly. “Close the door.”
“Kay.” I look at the door leading to the hall and watch as it begins to glow. “Fire.”
“Gwen, can you open the window in my bedroom?”
I hear him talking, I hear him shouting. I hear my name echo through my mind as delirium kicks in. My head is swimming. The heat is unbearable. “Nathan?” I rasp and he instantly quietens.
I’m so grateful I didn’t bring Dillan. My perfect little Dillan. His smile. His baby giggle. His tiny toes.
I’m never going to see him again.
“I’m here baby, I’m coming. I swear it.”
No! He can’t, he’ll die! “Stay out Nathan, please.”
I can’t tell whether I said it out loud or not. There’s a ringing sound in my ears and my lungs are slowly dying. I can feel it.
There’s so much heat, but I feel numb.
I roll onto my back and close my eyes. I can feel the smoke on my skin, it’s that thick.
There’s nothing but darkness waiting for me.
What would you do if you were to wake up tomorrow and see that this was all a dream? Would you do it all over again?
No. But I’d do the last week over in a heartbeat and I’d spend one last night with Nathan and my little boy.
I feel something cool and wet placed over my body and I’m sure I’m moving. My eyes won’t open and my lungs are wheezing.
“I’m here,” Nathan says and I feel his lap beneath me as I’m pulled into his chest. “The fire extinguisher ran out and the stairs collapsed behind me. I can’t get us out, Gwen. I’m so sorry.”
I want to be angry that he didn’t stay outside. Somebody has to be there for Dillan, but I can’t be, because part of me is glad that I’m not going alone, as selfish as that is.
“I lied,” I say, gripping his hand with weak fingers. Coughing wracks my body. I can’t stop and when I do stop, all I can do is wheeze.
“I forgive you.”
“No,” I shake my head against his neck, feeling the wet towel that covers me begin to warm. With the last bit of energy I have, I place his hand against my stomach and hold it there. “I lied.”
He leans forward and presses his trembling lips to mine. I feel a tear fall from his eye and land on my cheek. If I could cry, I would.
“She would have been as beautiful as you.” He chokes on the air and presses his forehead to mine. “I love you, Gwen,” he whispers, his entire body shaking with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t breathe, Nath,” I mutter, feeling the weight of silence settle on my chest.
He holds me tighter, tucking me as close to his body as possible. “Go to sleep, baby. You won’t feel a thing, I promise.” He kisses me one last time and I feel another tear land on my cheek.
Seconds later I drift away but, before I do, something strokes my cheek and I hear a name whispered in my ear, a name I haven’t heard in a really long time. “Gwenny.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
What’s with the light? Christ my head hurts and my chest burns.
Oh my god. I’ve gone to hell haven’t I?
“She’s awake.” Is that my mum? Why’s she in hell? “Sweet girl, can you see me?”
Everything hurts. I try to talk, but there’s something lodged in my throat. I can feel myself blinking, but all I can see is a really bright light.
My eyes roll around… I get nothing.
“Gwen.” It’s Jeanine, not my mum.
I start choking. My hands fly to my mouth, wanting to rid my throat of the intruder. My eyes stream with tears. I still can’t see anything.