Finding Home

Chapter Seven

I throw my last sweatshirt into my bag. I don't know how the hell my sister's crazy plan is going to work, but I have to trust her. I have nothing else to do. I walk through the upstairs, looking for anything else I may need. I grab an extra pack of toothbrushes from the bathroom closet, as well as shampoo and a loofah. On afterthought, I get toothpaste as well. 

Walking down the stairs I peek into the living room where Ted's cup of coffee from yesterday sits, as well as his daily newspaper. Kathy's book sits on the couch, taunting me. Daring me to admit that I am terrified of what happened. I turn angrily away from the living room and go into the kitchen. I grab a pack of Pop Tarts and a couple cokes. I throw some canned food into my duffel bag. I grab the half-finished family sized bag of Lays and add that. 

I hope they have cell service in the mist  is scary.

I almost laugh. The thoughts that go through my head when inside, I'm panicking. I grab the last few things I need, including pictures of my aunt and uncle, who, I just realized, could very  well be dead. Crap.

I try to figure out when my sister will get to me, but math makes my head hurt. Pretty much every thing school related makes my head hurt. Multiple texts come into my phone but I don't care because none of them are from Ted or Kathy. Those are the only people I care about hearing from. I place all the things I gathered by the front door and sit on the couch to wait.

Fire seeps out of the window as I watch my aunt and uncle sitting on the living room couch, oblivious to the flames rapidly engulfing the house. I scream but they cannot hear. I yell at them to leave, to run, but my shouts are lost in the wind, the smoke. I try to knock the door down to get to them, but something keeps me away from the house, my home, as I stand helpless while everything crumbles.

I jolt awake. My heart pounds in my chest. It was just a dream, Noah,  I remind myself over and over again. But still my eyes are wide with fear. I find it harder and harder to take normal breaths.

I pray that my sister would get here already, but hours later I still wait, heart still pounding, head still spinning. Every creak of the house frightens me. I wish that they were here. Someone, anyone. The silent loneliness of the house screams at me.

I finally drift back into a restless sleep.