Page 47 of An Unexpected Encounter

I get a dishtowel, using it to cradle the hot bowl in my hand, and head to the living room. A little food and a nap are all I need.

I haven’t been to a bonfire in years.

Roasting marshmallows is one of my favorite things to do. What’s better than s’mores on a crisp fall night? Dad and I loved them so much, we would even add Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to them.

The fire crackles in front of me, the flames a beautiful golden color with a red hue. But something isn’t right. I wasn’t at a bonfire. Was I?

I was talking to Sam, and then I climbed into bed. How did I get here?

The flames draw me in, hypnotizing me with their warmth.

“Selena,” a familiar deep voice calls.

“Dad, is that you? Where are you? I can't see you.”

A haze clouds my vision, and my chest becomes heavy. It’s getting hard to breathe.

“Dad,” I call again as I erupt in a coughing fit.

“Selena, you need to get out.”

Something’s wrong, but what?

Why’s it so hard to breathe? My chest feels so heavy and my breathing is wheezy. Am I getting sicker? Is it a real cold this time and not just morning sickness?

“Selena, you need to get out, baby,” Dad’s voice says again.

“Dad? I miss you. Where are you?”

I’d give anything just to see him one more time, even if it is unrealistic.

“Selena. I need you to wake up now!”

His words smack into me like a ton of bricks, and I shoot up in bed. My body is covered in sweat, and the room is full of smoke. It’s so thick I can barely see.

Shit! There’s a fire. I need to get out.

My mind tries to remember the safety drill we had in elementary school about what to do during a fire.

I fumble with the comforter until I find my phone. I need to call 911. When I pick it up, my heart starts racing as panic sets in.

It’s dead. I never charged it. Fuck! What do I do?

I need to get out of here. Down the stairs and out of the building to safety.

Come on, Selena, you can do this. Dad didn’t wake you from sleep to not survive.

I scramble out of bed and leave the room, moving as fast as I can without becoming sick. You’re supposed to get down low and cover your mouth. Yes, that's it. I rush to the bathroom, grab a washcloth, and run it under water, covering my nose and mouth.

It helps some, but I need to get out of here.

I sprint to the front door, not caring about crawling, as it would take too long.

Opening it, I rush out into the hallway, and no one is in sight.

I need to warn people. What if they’re sleeping? Why didn’t the fucking fire alarms go off? I hurry down the hallway, screaming for everyone to get up, beating on the doors. There’s only four of us on this floor. No one answers until I get to Mrs. Hinkley’s door. She answers, as frantic as I am.

“What’s going on?” she asks, her eyes wide.

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