Angst, lots of angst. If that isn't your thing, you might want to leave, but if want a punch to the feeler, go right ahead.

I am sitting on a dirty, lumpy cot in a dark room on a cold night. The moon does not shine and the stars are only little prickles of light somewhere off to my right. My eyes can just barely make out the stone fireplace that is not lit and won't be, hopefully, for the coming weeks. It is especially cold today and my body convulses each time a breeze comes through my window. The room I am staying in could be called run down if you were to be nice. Most of the stones are missing from the fireplace and the window is cracked and broken. The glass shards have been cleaned up, but I don't dare step too close. My door is closed and will hopefully stay like that for a while. It gets stuck easily and I am grateful for that small comfort, at least I will hear someone coming into my room if need be. I don't have any personal items so I don't know why anyone would come into my room, but I am grateful anyway.

I hear a hesitant knock on the other side of my door and I wait for whoever it is to announce themselves. Sure enough, Margery's voice comes from the other side of the heavy door.

"Can I come in? I want to check in on you."

I nod, but she can't see me so I weakly cry, "Come in."

Margery carries a piece of flint and some wood shavings she probably asked her husband to carve off the block she was also carrying.

"I know you don't want me to light a fire, but I thought that maybe you could do it yourself later."

I stare her down, not understanding.

"I have a bowl of water too, it's in the hallway. You can use it to wash yourself or we can go to the stream later on. Oh! Or you can use it to put out your fire if you decide to light one." She smiled at me, a little too innocently. Like that hadn't been her plan the whole time. This was the third time she tried to convince me to light a fire and the sixth she had tried to get me to bathe; I was getting fed up.

"No, I won't light a fire. And I don't plan to anytime soon so go bug someone else!"

That was the most I had ever said to her and I think she took my talking as agreement, because she completely ignored everything I said and told me, "Look, Bryn, it has been more than a month and winter is just around the corner. You will freeze to death if we don't light your fire. Now do it or I will do it for you."

That was the harshest I had ever heard her talk and I couldn't believe that she would say such things to me so I slowly nodded my head in agreement. But as she lit the wood shavings and the wood was engulfed in flame I knew I had made a mistake.

I felt the lick of flames on my back as they consumed the small cot I had been sitting on.

Fire, I thought. That is what they were trying to say, not fine. The cries of pain and fear had started. My whole families voices joining the chorus, but not I. I was very pain resistant and now that seemed like a great skill to have. I heard my sister from a few rooms over call my name, but before I could do anything about it I was whisked away. I saw my baby brother lying in his crib, the flames clinging to the blanket wrapped firmly around him. I could almost feel the warmth of the flame brushing my cheek as I ran up to the crib and grabbed Henry. I rushed out of the room and almost fell into the roaring fire that had already completely consumed our staircase. I started to gasp, but my shock turned into panic as I realized I couldn't get a breath in. I turned around and saw the upstairs window had not yet been touched by the dangerous inferno. I ran over, Henry's blankets still smoking a little from the fire. Coughing, gasping, and struggling for air I opened the window and saw the small form of my baby sister going back inside the burning building. I wanted to call out a warning to her, but I didn't have the air in my lungs to do so. I looked down at the grass below me and wondered if I should risk it with my precious cargo. The flames at my back persuaded me to jump. I tightened my hold on Henry and... Falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, falling… The air rushed past me and I felt my head hit the ground before my world faded to black.

A lumpy cot greeted me. A very familiar lumpy cot.

"You should have died." Margery said quietly, sponging a small bowl of water onto my forehead. I got worried for a second, until I saw the familiar ash and soot-covered clothes I had kept on since the fire.

"From the fire and from your fever that just broke. But you're a survivor and I am glad you are staying with us. I shouldn't have pushed you; I know what losing a family member can do to you. You saved him, you know." At this point her hand gently and carefully caressed my cheek where a stray tear lay. I hadn't even realized I'd been crying. Then she started to sing, softly at first, then steadily growing louder.

"Young girl, don't cry

I'll be right here when your world starts to fall."

I found that she had a very pretty voice and I tried to hold my sobs in so I could hear better, but they came out in a wave I couldn't even begin to control.

"Young girl, it's alright

Your tears will dry, you'll soon be free to fly."

I couldn't imagine getting up and being brave again after something like this, but her steady tone seemed to inspire a confidence I thought I had lost.

"When you're safe inside your room you tend to dream,

Of a place where nothings harder than it seems."

Oh how I wish I could go back to that day again and reverse it. Tell my parents I loved them once more before they were swallowed by the flames. Tell my sisters and my brothers and everyone how I never hated them, how I really loved them. How much they really meant to me, even if I didn't show it. With that thought, my tears increased tenfold.

"No one ever wants or bothers to explain,

Of the heartache life can bring and what it means."

I think Margery was trying to hint that this place, this odd shamble of a house with her in it, could help me point out things others never bothered to.

"When there is no one else, look inside yourself,

Like your oldest friend, just trust the voice within."

At some point in the song, Margery's soothing voice and embrace had become like a mother's. And I found I didn't mind quite so much anymore.

"Then you'll find the strength, that will guide your way

You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within."

I was pretty sure if my heart had a voice, it would be screaming, "Stay here! Stay here! Stay here with this lumpy cot and this kind old woman."

"Young girl, don't cry,

I'll be right here when your world starts to fall."

Margery looked down at me, noticed my no longer tear-stained eyes and said with a hint of a quiver in her voice, "It worked, your tears stopped."

I hugged her tight and soon we were both crying, but this time happy tears. In that moment I knew that if my heart talked, and I could respond, I would say, "Yes, I think I will."

AN: The song was The Voice Within by Christina Aguilera. Hope you like it! I actually wrote this for one night's homework in English class. I think my English teacher liked it, I hope you guys do too!