Fire. Everything was fire. The building was being eaten by the golden flames. The heat dried and ruined everything in its line of sight. The light burned her eyes, the heat causing her to sweat and then drying it immediately. Her skin burned in pain, the fire licking at her bare skin. It had already killed her family. No-one would save her now.
She was alone with the burning fire of her house.
Frisk awoke in a white room. She sat up easily and rubbed her blurry eyes. The world around her was empty. It was just white. She stood up. She wore her burned clothes and no shoes. Her short brown hair was sticky and dripping with sweat. It hung heavily in front of her eyes and around her face.
Where was she? There was nothing, not even a horizon to look for. It was endless white sky and white ground.
She took a tentative step away from where she had lain. Nothing happened. She looked down at her arms and hands. They were covered with burns and cut and bruises, but none of them hurt.
Frisk wondered briefly if she was dead. It would make sense, but there had to be more after death, right? Not just endless nothing. This can't be it. This can't be! She fell to floor in exhaustion.
She clamped her hands over her ears, tangling her hair in her fingers. She screamed. And didn't stop.
The world went black.
Frisk woke up. She was tired, fatigue attacking every muscle in her body. She groaned at the pain throbbing across her. Her mind was foggy. She couldn't think. She didn't want to. She wanted to sleep again.
She focused on what was happening to her. She was rocking around lying on a stiff bed. She looked around her and saw grey and a few weird pieces of technology that she couldn't identify.
"Frisk Barone? We're just taking you to a hospital and you'll be sorted out soon, sweetheart." A voice said from Frisk's right. Frisk faded away once again.
She was roused from her sleep once more. She was in a room in a hospital gown with bandages around her arms and legs and a plaster on her face. She had another plaster stuck on her chest. In her room with her was another person, but not one she knew. It was a nurse.
"Frisk Barone?" The nurse asked. Frisk nodded wearily. The nurse smiled and held out a cup of water with a straw to Frisk's mouth and let her drink.
"I just need to ask you a few questions." The nurse said and Frisk nodded. "How old are you?"
"Six." She whispered softly, her throat dry and her voice croaky. The nurse smiled and nodded, writing something on a clipboard.
"Do you know how the fire started?" She asked, her voice reserved yet sympathetic. Tears pricked at Frisk's eyes as she shook her head no. The nurse continued asking questions and Frisk answered best she could.
Frisk was soon stuck in an orphanage with the scars of her burns. She always heard the whispers everyone was saying. That she had started the fire. That she had killed her family. That it was her fault. The rumours still weren't as loud as the echoes of the crackling fire.
One day, when she was 11, the echoes became too much. The screams of her parents and brother filled her dreams as the smell of fire stuck to her nose. She ran. Her life wasn't bad, but the guilt of living while she should have died with her family in the fire burned more than the actual flames.
She climbed the mountain on the edge of town. She had left a note on her bed at the orphanage, apologizing to the friends she had made there and explained why she had run. She climbed and climbed, higher up the mountain until the found a hole. She couldn't see the bottom.
She would see her family again.
Frisk Barone jumped.
A/N:- I'm actually quite excited about writing this. Next chapter should be up soon. Frisk is 11 when she falls, Sans is 14 and Pap is 13. I know it's young for how they act in the game, but this is an AU so...
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