Sequel to fire, can be read independently. Disclaimer : Zigzag belongs to Louis Sachar, and the sister to. I think.

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White.

Its covering me, suffocating me, killing me

Softly.

Inocently.

And for my own good.

They say the white is for my own good.

That the shots are for my own good.

That they are for my own good.

And I tell them, I say, but I'm okay!

I'm fine!

I don't mind the voices, I don't mind the burns, I don't mind anything!

They don't listen.

They ignore me, make me wallow in selfpity and despair.

They make me want to die, to do anything to get away from the white.

And they always say its for my own good.

I beleive them, I mean, they should know whats good for me, they are, after all, so briliant.

I used to look up to them.

To him to.

He used to come home late, to leave early in the morning, to almost never see us, but we didn't mind.

Kathy didn't mind either.

He was saving lives, making crazy people feel better, fixing them up.

And now, ironicly enough, when I see him 16 hours a day, 7 days a week, that he's always around, always there, its now that I hate him the most.

He's always there when they put the needle in.

He's always there when they try experimental methods on me.

He's always there to pay the new treatments, to treat me, try to understand me.

He's also always there when I cry.

When I scream.

When the pain and the longing for familiar things is so great, that I think I might just quit and talk to them.

I hate him.

I have to get him away from Kathy.

Kathy is the fire.

She protects me, without even knowing.

She's the reason I don't quit.

Because, if I talk, then they will put me in jail, put me away, and the white will get her.

I cannot let that happen.

I couldn't let that happen.

Her teacher, he looked at her strange.

He was always staring at us when I picked her up from school.

When we talked.

When we laughed.

When I was happy, he always made me remember all my fears.

And he was silently yelling at me, I will get her.

I had this feeling, that he would hurt her.

Harm her.

I loved her to much to do that.

So with the help of the fire, of her in a way, I sneaked in, and I lit a match.

One single little flame, managed to destroy all the control I had over myself.

And for what? He wasn't even in the classroom.

He had gotten away.

Someone had warned him no doubt.

The white probably did it.

They white is against me.

And I have this feeling, that he will win.

If I talk, then they will know I am not mentally ill.

Well, not legally ill.

And they will take me away again.

And they said they would take the fire away forever.

That I would never see it, nor her again after.

That the white would keep her.

I could not let that happen.

I will not let it happen.

In my mind, the fire jumps, and kills everybody in white.

In my mind, my sister and mother hug me and love me, their proud of me.

In my mind, the white goes away, it doesn't win the game that started two weeks ago.

In my mind, I am ok.

And in my little reality, I am smilling, because I know that the fire will kill the white as soon as it has the chance.

But for that it needs my help.

The help of the fire.

The other one, thats hidden in my pocket.

They will see soon.

And the fire will turn the white into black.

In darkness.

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