Hi! So this chapter's kind of short, but the other's will be longer, hopefully. R&R if you'd like. Hope you enjoy!
Something Unreal
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When he passes, he doesn't feel the air leaving his lungs, or the life draining out of him. No, it happens in a flash. Warmth flashes across his face, bathing him in a dreadful heat. The flames spread across the floor, licking the walls and at his feet. He pulls back into the corner, runs over the safety instructions the fireman have taught him in every single fire-safety school day of his life, and then tries to pry open the window above him.
Outside, the world is cast in an unforgiving white. The snow had stopped falling early that morning, sticking to the roads and trees; making sidewalks slippery, and car wheels turn on dimes. He hadn't even stepped out this morning, too many papers, too much to write, to do. When was the last time he'd felt slush drip between his fingers, or the fresh shock of a snowball to the back?
Smoke churned in his throat, and Jamie coughs, trying to rid his mouth of the foul taste. The sill doesn't come up easily, it's stuck, and Jamie curses, because now couldn't have been a worse time. He tries again, tugging even harder, until his fingers turn white and the muscles ripple in his arms, and for once he scolds himself for not trying harder during practice, for not pushing his limits, because maybe then he could've opened that window. Maybe the outcome would've been a little different.
But it's not, and he doesn't get the window open. Jamie lowers himself back to his knees and arches his back. Bile starts in the back of his throat, and he tries to push it back down. He tries to yell, something, anything at all, but he can't get out a word. His eyes have gone foggy with a mix of smog and tears. He rakes at his face with balled fists, but that just makes them sting more. Sweat trickles down his forehead, matting his hair. His legs weaken beneath him, and he's can't feel them. There's nothing below him, just these limbs that he can't feel, this lifeless pair of flesh. He falls to his side, barely making a sound as he does so. His body hurts so much, and there's this pain, this searing pain, he can't seem to escape.
His eyes close last. It's not slow like in the movies. He doesn't take in the world, in his one last breathless glimpse. No, he can barely see anything at all. It's like falling asleep really, or maybe passing out. He's not sure. Thoughts don't make much sense anymore. He blinks and he's gone.