Page 1 of When You Saved Me

Prologue

CHARLIE

Everything burns.

Heat from the flames licking up my bedroom walls singes the hairs on my skin as I look around–panicking. There is no way out.

THERE. IS. NO. WAY. OUT.

TRAPPED.

I am trapped in the corner of my room with nothing but a wet towel draped over my head and shoulders to ward off the heat.

There’s no use. The water I soaked the towel with is starting to evaporate from the heat. What’s left of the water is quickly turning hot, making it nearly impossible to breath under the damp cloth.

Smoke fills my lungs as I try to breathethrough the flimsy white top I put on this morning, completely unaware of what the evening would bring.

Think, Charlie. Just think.

I look around the room through hazy eyes to find anything that might keep the fire at bay and give me some time. I come up short.

Bedding.

Wooden dresser.

Vanity filled with makeup and hair products. Everything is either already engulfed in flames or highly flammable.

I’m going to die here, the thought strikes a blow to my heart, leaving me wracked with fear that feels insurmountable. Every wish I made that never came true flashes through my mind like a whip of lightning. A reminder of all the things I will never get to do as soon as the fire makes its final leap to the far side of my room where I’ve taken refuge.

My heart races as the anxiety spikes.

What should I do?

Black smoke pummels toward my ceiling as the white frilly comforter and sheets are ignited.

I can’t breathe. The heat. The smoke. It all fills my lungs as I pull the small opening of the towel over my face even more.

I don’t want to die here.

My heart lurches in my chest as I choke down another lungful of air and out of the corner of my eye I see my window.Yes!In all the frantic chaos, I didn’t think about it. Slowly, I creep towards the window, only a few feet away from me. Careful to only take in short breaths. It burns somuch; I start hacking through the slit of the towel covering my face.

Bright light beams at me as I raise my face over the windowsill and look up and down the street my apartment building is on. To the far left, the front of a red fire truck peeks around the corner of the building. People are gathered all along the street staring up in shock. Gripping the low edge of the window, I dig my fingers under the metal lip of the window, desperate for a single breath of fresh air.

All the way up on the seventh floor, there’s no way I can get out, but if someone can see me…maybe they can send help.

A grunt pushes past my lips as the towel slips from my shoulders and I push upward on the window.

It doesn’t budge.

Not a single inch.

“No,” I whisper through clenched teeth. Giving the window another shove upward, the muscles in my arms and shoulders strain against the friction but the window stays closed.

Heat lashes at the back of my eyes as tears swarm my vision.

“No!” I scream this time, throwing my fists against the glass. Over and over again, I hit the windowpane, raw fear giving me one last burst of adrenaline until the smoke consumes my lungs again, draining every last bit of energy I have from the oxygen being depleted from my muscles.

“Please, someone see me,” I say, but my voice is swallowed in the chaos surrounding me. Another wracking coughhits my chest and throat as something across my room cracks loudly in the roaring flames.

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