"In North Carolina, it has been two days since tragedy struck when a freak accident, involving a Ferris wheel and fireworks killed 132 people. The Ferris wheel is believed to have suffered from structural failure and when it collapsed onto the fireworks, it sparked a major fire. Authorities say the area hasn't had any rain for more than three weeks now and could be a leading factor in what caused the fire to be so deadly."
Simon stared at his T.V. His eyes were red, puffy, and sore from crying. He had locked himself in his room, and his parents had gone out to get him some food.
"Interestingly enough, we were told a group of kids were escorted out moments before the disaster occurred. Also, a young woman was killed by a speeding fire truck. A simply horrific event, one that will, unfortunately, live on for many years to come."
"And Diane, you know the weird thing, I actually think that this could have been prevented. I spoke with fire chief Lorenzo…" The man's voice trailed off as Simon got caught in some deep thought.
"Heather…" was all he could say. He gripped his frame picture of her. The two of them were smiling in front of the Mckinley Amusement park. Her family lived up there and the two had gone multiple times. He couldn't see himself living without her.
His door slowly opened, even though it had been locked. Simon quickly jumped from his bed to see who it was. No one was there. He closed the door and sat back down on his bed. He heard the door slowly creak again. This time, before it was opened all the way, he ran and threw it open.
Mickey, his little brother, gasped and tried to run. Simon grabbed him and threw him on the floor.
"You little douchebag! What do you want? I told you to leave me alone!" He shouted.
"I'm telling mommy you said that! I just wanted to play!" Mickey said, starting to cry.
Simon, who always fell for the little kid tricks, sighed and picked him up.
"I'm sorry," he said hugging him, "I guess I'm just a little freaked because of Heather." He told his brother.
"Well, if it'll cheer you up, want me to make you a special sandwich?" Mickey said excitedly.
Simon knew what that meant; it was some nasty sandwich where he threw random things together. But hey, if it got him to shut up, he'd let him make him one. But that didn't mean he was going to eat it.
"Sure thing buddy." Simon told him.
Mickey cheered and ran out of the room. When he got to the stairs, Mickey felt something weird. A chill, a wind, blew by him, slowly. A shadow? Maybe? Mickey didn't know and didn't care. He ran and slid down the already loose banister, causing it to swing a little. He ran to the kitchen and started making himself a sandwich.
Simon, deciding to get out of his room, started walking towards the attic. He saw out of the corner of his eye a curtain move. It was in his room. He walked back in there and called out, "Mickey, are you in here? I thought I was getting a sandwich?" But he heard Mickey singing downstairs.
He brushed it off as the air conditioning and walked to the attic. He smelled paint, stain, and wood. His dad was a dollhouse maker and he made a lot of money on them, especially the ones with a lot of detail. He walked by the shelf that had all of his father's supplies. He saw a pack of gum near the top and stood on the bottom shelves for support. The floor, weak from the shelf already, began to groan. It sank a little into the floor, but he didn't notice.
After getting his gum, Simon looked into one of the houses and saw that the grandfather clock door was open on one. Reaching his hand in, he closed it, and on the way out he saw that the banister on the stairs wasn't connected. He pressed down to get it back in the slot, but the banister cracked in half and broke.
"Crap!" He shouted. He ran out of the attic and towards the stairs. He would be in so much trouble if his dad saw the dollhouse stairs. He ran down the stairs and grabbed some of the glue from the office. He grabbed it, and noticed something odd. One of his pictures of him and Heather was messed up. On his side, his head was obscured, and on her side, the picture was blurry. He shrugged it off, like the wind, and kept going. On his way back up, he grabbed the banister, and it shook a little. One of the supports even snapped, but he didn't see it. He had to fix the stairs.
He carefully glued the stairs back as neatly as he could. He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.
Mickey stomped into the room and yelled, "COME EAT MY SANDWICH!" he was red in the face and didn't look too happy.
Simon grunted and kept checking the stairs. Mickey kept whining. "NOW! NOW! NOW!" He screamed, stomping each time he did. The shelf groaned, as did the floor.
"Mickey, cut it out! I'll be there in a second!" Simon yelled back. He walked towards the shelf to put the glue on it. He, again, stood on the bottom shelf to support himself.
The floor groaned, and the phone in Mickey's hands rang. When Simon got off to get it, the floor collapsed underneath him. He screamed and grabbed for the table as the shelf and floor flew to the floor below. The table slammed down and he almost fell. Mickey jumped for him.
Mickey grabbed his hands, screaming "Simon! Simon! Hold on!" Simon's fingers began slipping. He looked down and saw the shelf next to the stairs. Pieces of wood were splintered up everywhere.
Mickey couldn't hold on any longer. The boy let go and Simon fell screaming. He slammed into the banister, which shattered. He rolled over to see the table sliding out of the attic. Dollhouses began falling out.
"Ah! No!" He screamed as one careened over the edge and crushed his hand. He pulled it out to see a mangled mess.
"SIMON!" Mickey screamed.
He rolled over just in time to see a dollhouse, the one he repaired, smash into his face.
Alicia blew out a puff of air.
"Whatever, Simon." She said angrily, slamming her phone down.
She crawled into her bed and sighed softly. When she moved her hand to click her bedside light off, the bulb popped, sending sparks everywhere.
She jumped up and turned the main light on. The bulb had exploded, and burned her favorite picture.
It was of the group, the year before, going to Sea World in Florida. Simon and Heather's faces were burned off.
"Oh my God." Alicia said. She grabbed the phone and dialed Simon's number.
Someone answered, but all she could hear was crying and screaming.
"Mickey? Mickey, sweetie, is everything okay?"
She couldn't tell what he said. She told him she'd call him right back, then she called 911.