The smoke curled around Kit's face like she was smoking a cigar, blinding her and filling her lungs with poison. Her brain was filled too, muddled and confused and unable to think. She had to save . . . someone. Kit didn't know whom. A J or an R or a B, something to do with letters.
Books, perhaps, her best friends? But books weren't really her friends, they weren't real and couldn't speak, they could only give knowledge. Knowledge and secrets to vernacular fastened doors and the other thousands of secrets in her life.
They were burning up now, burning up just like her hands as she lunged to grab them. What was she grabbing? The smell of burnings books and pain of her hands the dizziness in her brain were all that mattered. That, and saving someone. But who? Kit realized that if her hands were in pain, they were on fire, she had to scream, scream for help with everything, not just this fire, but every fire that was to come. She had to scream and run away and throw away her merit badges of bravery, she had to save . . .
Jacques?
She hoped it was Jacques. That meant he was still alive. Kit could barely see someone holding her. Maybe it was Jacque, if they were both dead. They were twins, after all. Perhaps they had been reincarnated and were back in the womb, holding on for dear life. Except that any idea seemed crazy under the influence of the smoke.
Kit's thoughts wandered to and fro between saving someone and the pain and the one saving her. She couldn't have saved Beatrice, no matter how much it pained her to see the face her little brother wore. Lemony had never been the cheeriest of children but after Beatrice had died there was just this look in his eyes that made Kit-
Cough.
No, wait, it was the smoke that made her cough. Why was she only coughing, why didn't the rest of her body catch on fire, why was she thinking of saving Jacques when he was already dead?
Maybe someone had saved her right after she had plunged after the books, or the sugar bowl, or Beatrice, who ever it was, so only her hands were burned. She could wear gloves and hide the scars, hide them as she so many secrets, secrets that burned like fire.
Burned like fire? How unoriginal. Everything was fire.
A pillar fell, but she wasn't hurt. Someone had grabbed her and saved her from the fire. Kit kept on forgetting that and then suddenly realizing it again. They were traveling through a tunnel. Was that even possible? She hoped the person was Jacques, holding her as they had held each other in the womb, and held each other through all the unfortunate events in their life.
Authors Notes: read and review. I felt like explaing why Kit wears gloves. I hope it's not too short. I might add an epilogue chapter.