Author's Note: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters from Twilight. Those are the property of Stephanie Meyer. All I own are my own ideas and any original characters of my own design.
The smell of smoke made me cough and woke me from my sleep. It was burning my throat and brought tears to my eyes. Rubbing at them just made the burning worse. I sat up in bed and stared around me in confusion. The room was too hot and thick black smoke was coiling up from under the closed bedroom door.
I eased myself out of my bed and stumbled slightly, the smoke making me dizzy. I made my way over to the door and reached for the knob. It was very warm but not hot enough to burn me. Pulling it open, I looked down the stair that led up to my bedroom. The thick clotting smoke was coming from the lower portion of our small home.
I stumbled down the stairs, coughing and gagging as the smoke became more potent. I could now see the living room and it was on fire. Great flames burning through the rugs and furniture with a vengeance. It seemed to have a life of its own.
My parents room was on the lower level so I made my way towards it. The door was always left open so that they could hear me if something were to happen. Their room was filled with smoke and covered in shadows as I nearly tumbled through the door. My parents were still in bed. I wondered to myself how they could sleep through all of this.
Their bed was tall and it was a bit of a fight to pull my already weakened, five year old body up onto it. They didn't wake up when I did that. I shook my head in wonder. Normally, they wake up at the feel of the bed shifting under them. I couldn't fathom why they were still asleep now.
Tears filled my eyes as I shook my parents but failed to wake them. I knew fire was dangerous. My father had told me many times how dangerous it was in order to keep me from playing in the fireplace. I still ended up learning the hard way when I tried to get a fallen toy out of it when I was three. The sleeve of my shirt had caught on fire and I now had a small burn scar on my upper arm. I liked it though because I always thought that it looked like a bird.
I frowned upon the forms of my parents and decided then that, if they wouldn't wake up, I would just have to get them out. My mother had always said I was certainly my father's daughter due to my stubborn streak. I wanted to be just like him. He was strong, quiet and had a way with our horses that no other farmer in the area could claim.
I grabbed a hold of my mother's arm and began to tug her off of the bed. My reasoning was that my father was the strongest man in my world and he would want me to save mother first. I managed to get her off of the bed and onto the floor and began to slowly pull her towards the other door in their bedroom. It led outside and they often had it open during the summer to allow a breeze to come in and cool the house.
It was slow moving and I could see the flames moving into the doorway of the room. They licked at the ceiling as I struggled under my mother's weight and inched my way towards that door. For a moment I almost despaired as I slipped and her full weight crashed on top of me but I gathered my will and forced my tiny body back up and back to my task. I needed to save my parents.
I tugged the door open and began dragging my mother out into the yard. I was trembling horribly as my feet hit the snow. My body was drenched in sweat and in moments I felt nearly frozen but I continued my trek through the snow, finally setting my mother down about twenty yards from the house.
I nearly collapsed next to her but the thought of my father still being in the house had me turning and stumbling back inside. The flames were now visible outside and the smoke had gotten much thicker as it spilled out the doorway. It was nearly like running into a wall as I passed back through it and back into my parents' room.
The flames had reached the end of the bed and were licking at the bottoms of my father's feet. I squealed at the sight and rushed forward to start pulling him off of the bed as well. It was even harder to do than with my mother. My small body was suffering from the smoke and exertion. Every breath turned into a cough and I was wheezing horribly.
We were less than two feet from the door when I heard something snap. I looked up in time to watch a burning beam fall from the ceiling and land in front of the door, blocking our only exit. The fire now surrounded us on all sides and the ceiling began to fall in large burning chunks around us.
I wanted to scream but choked as the smoke became even denser. The flames moved continuing to draw closer and I whimpered softly in despair. I looked at my father and noticed the peaceful look on his face. Despite this, my heart ached at the fact that I couldn't save him. He would have saved me if he had woken up.
The fire roared up around us and engulfed me. I closed my eyes as my world erupted in pain before darkness overtook me.
Author's Note: Okay, it's not a chapter to my other story but I was asked to put this idea to use by Gaara King Of The Sand. I found his idea to be intriguing and agreed to write this story with his help. I want to see what this guy can come up with on the idea train so do us both a favor and let us know what you think.