Summer vacation! Whoo! But it's bitter-sweet, though, because I'm pretty much a high-schooler now, and while three-fourths of the eighth grade is going to one school, the last fourth is going to another. Guess which group I'm in? The district line is literally within a mile or two of my house. -.- I was accepted into the Magnet Program, though, which is basically this higher-level program thing, and the school that less people are going to is the Magnet school, so even if I was going to the other school, I'd still end up going to this one. Almost all of my friends are going to the other one, though... I so sad...

And, I have summer assignments. Joy.

How have you guys been doing?

Disclaimer: Nope.


"So… this is Georgia Wenn's floor," Jack says as we walk into the large, cylindrical room. I look around. It appears to be a large ballroom. Torches line the walls, each about five feet apart from the other. The flames dance back and forth, as if excited for the inevitable conflict we would have with the ghost. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling. Its crystals twinkle constantly as a result of reflecting light from the torches. In the middle of the room, on the floor, is the image of a large flame.

The door is directly across from us. The gateway to freedom seems out of place in its simplicity; a plain white rectangle amid all of the ballroom's graceful elegance. I could care less how it looks, as long as it gets us out of here.

"The door," Jack and I simultaneously say, probably noticing it at about the same time. We give each other a short glance and a smile, stupidly amused by the chance occurrence, before starting to run across the room.

But then a fire taller than we are bursts into existence right in front of us, close enough that the heat feels like it's burning my skin. I manage to successfully skid to a stop and back away, but Jack pitches forward and falls to the ground with a grunt. He scrambles back up as if gravity getting the best of him didn't affect him. The wince that I notice as he does so says otherwise.

"Now where do you think you're going?" a sultry voice asks. Its source appears to be the fire. As we watch, a curvy figure steps out of the flame. Georgia Wenn looks disturbingly similar to Marilyn Monroe, complete with the curly blonde hair, the little black mole/freckle/thing next to her mouth, and the plump lips painted blood red with lipstick. Wrapped around her body is what appears to be a feather boa…

…except it's on fire.

She places one hand on her hip, and the other reaches up to stroke the flaming clothing article. One end of it raises and nudges her hand. That's when we realize it's a snake.

"Great," Jack mutters.

"We were just leaving," I say. I slowly step to the side, away from the ghost and the fire. Maybe, just maybe, she'll just let us walk by without any problems.

She laughs. "I don't think so." The fire behind her spreads into a solid wall that bisects the entire room, blocking any potential path to the door. The temperature of the room skyrockets. There's no possible way to get past the flames.

Why did I even hope?

Her mirth turns into a glare of hatred, and she scowls. "Do you really think I'm just going to let you ruin me?"

I groan, forgetting my fear a little bit as exasperation takes over. "What are you talking about?! We just wanna get out of here and go—"

"Expose all of my secrets?" the woman snarls. The fire snake hisses as if in agreement. "Not gonna happen." But then her face softens, and her anger disappears just as suddenly as it had come. "But no matter. I won't let you block my path to stardom. I destroy anyone that gets in my way." She huffs. "The other patients always had it out for me." A horrible grin spreads across her face. "I just destroyed them. Simple as that."

"L-Look," Jack says, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "We don't want to hurt you in any way, honest. We just—"

"Bullcrap!" the ghost screams, her fury returning tenfold. The snake hisses once more, and she immediately calms down and strokes it fondly. "Settle, Nagini." Is it just me, or is someone a little temperamental?

My mind then goes to Harry Potter. The snake has the same name as the one Voldemort owns. I shudder.

"Please, we really don't want to hurt you," I plead. "What will it take for us to convince you?"

"Your deaths," she responds, grinning evilly. She suddenly steps backwards, back into the fire that she came from. The wall of fire from before moves going around on either side before its two ends meet. The result is a circle of fire all around us.

"Burn!" Georgia's voice hisses, almost sounding like a snake.

"This is it," Jack breaths, as the circle of fire shrinks inch by inch and Georgia's maniacal laughter bounces off the walls. "We're really going to die here." I'm not sure if he's talking to me or himself.

"No…" I say anyway, wanting to deny it, scrambling to think of something, anything, to get us out of this situation, even though that's usually Jack's job. Yet, he's given up, so the responsibility falls on me. I have to admit, though, that I'm not really that good at on the spot plans for action.

The flames get closer and closer.

I can't think of anything.

Jack and I press against each other back to back as the flames close in. I'm sweating quite a bit under Jack's hoodie, but I don't want to take it off. "Kim," he suddenly says. Even though he had to raise his voice to be heard over the roar of the flames, he still sounds subdued… defeated. 'He really has given up.'

"Hmm?" I ask distractedly, mind spinning as I struggle to overcome my fear so I can think straight.

"I…" He clears his throat and tries again. "I like you," he blurts.

My train of thought derails and crashes into a tree. I turn around, not believing I heard him right. Did he just say he likes me? He turns around as well. He seems resigned to his fate, but at the same time he has an uncharacteristically vulnerable look on his face.

"W-What?"

"I just thought I'd tell you since, you know, we're gonna die and all." It looks like he's trying to sound nonchalant, but his hands are shaking as he grabs my own.

My face is very warm. Whether it's from the approaching fire or my emotions I'm not sure, but I have a pretty good idea. I hadn't heard wrong.

"Jack…"

"I wanted to get it off my chest," he continues as if he didn't hear me. "I always kinda joked to myself that I'd at least tell you before I die, so I'm pretty much obligated to right now. At least I won't have to bear the pain of rejection for long." He shrugs and there's a little half smile on his face, as if he's amused by his own morbid optimism. "But—"

I cut him off by standing on my tip-toes and kissing him. I pull my hands out of his and wrap my arms around his neck, burying a hand in his hair and pulling his head down to my level and resting back on the flats of my feet. I couldn't take hearing him talk like that any longer, like a man facing his execution confessing his regrets. I'm glad he reciprocates my feelings. I just wish I found out a different way.

He stills for a few tense seconds in surprise, before relaxing. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me against him. Everything fades away and it's just us two, tentatively stepping into this new area of our relationship.

Just as sudden as it had been initiated, it's over. He rests his forehead against mine and his warm breath fans out over my lips. I keep my eyes closed for a few moments, before reality slowly starts coming back. The psychotic ghost. The fire. The promise of certain death.

I open my eyes. Jack is staring at me with the stupidest grin I've ever seen on his face.

"What?" I say, moving my head back to look at him better.

"You do like me," he states.

"What happened to the sensitive guy that was afraid of rejection?" I ask, annoyed.

He shrugs.

"Young love."

The two of us stiffen at Georgia's voice. There's a flash of movement of to our side; the ghost is standing there, and that's when we realize that all the fire in the room is gone, with the exception of Nagini. I slide my hands down to Jack's chest, and his grip on me tightens.

"I remember when I was young," she continues thoughtfully, walking around us in a slow, wide circle. "There was this boy. I was so happy with him. I thought I was in love."

My heart sinks. "Thought" is the key word there. This does not bode well.

"But when they carted me off to this horrible place, he just stood there and watched." Her eyes harden. "He was supposed to fight for me. But no. He never even visited. Not once." She stops in the same place she started.

"Jack is different," I say, knowing where this is going. I pull away from him gently and stand in front of him a little bit. He's smart enough to stay quiet. "He's not going to hurt me. He'd never do that."

"I thought the same about Michael," she replies darkly.

"Georgia—"

"AHHH!" Suddenly Jack is flying across the room, a fireball propelling him across the room.

"NO!" I scream. He slams into the wall and slumps down, not moving. The front of his shirt is completely singed. I start to go to him, but a fire wall suddenly appears and blocks my way.

"You're better off without him," she says coldly.

"Jack wouldn't hurt a fly, not unless someone is threatening the people he loves," I say, trying to convince her while aching to be by his side to see how badly hurt he is. "Not all guys are the same. There are some really, really great people out there, and Jack is one of them."

"Your judgement is clouded by your love for him," she says softly. "The same happened to me. It's alright. I will remedy that. Nagini, take care of him."

The fire serpent slithers down her body to the ground, and heads toward Jack.

"No, don't hurt him!"

"Don't worry. You'll die with a clear mind."

I look up to see a giant fireball hovering near me. "Please…" I beg, sending another nervous glance over to the snake moving towards the fire barrier. She simply smirks evilly. The fireball hurtles towards me.

Excruciating pain, and then darkness.


One more chapter after this.

Until next time,

~BP