Killer

Prologue: When Fire Meets Gasoline

Everything was quiet for a long, chilling minute. I could hear a loud thud piercing through the silence, bound to a chair. A cold breeze ran through my skin, making my blood turn into icicles. I then raised my chin at an indistinct, dark figure far off in the room and breathed deeply into the air. I couldn't believe this.

"W-What..." I shakily stuttered, thrashing back and forth on the chair. "Are you doing?"

I continued to breathe through my mouth and nose. There was some smell in the air, one I couldn't describe for sure. But the smell grew stronger up toward my nostrils, and I immediately started to panic.

My heart leaped out of my throat. It was gasoline that I was smelling.

That was when I heard someone flick a match nearby. Everything in front of me lit up in a few seconds. I screamed on and on for help. I couldn't move—my wrists and ankles were tied to the chair. It's almost as if someone had left me here to burn near my death. All I heard was that terrible popping noise coming from the fire rising beneath, destroying what it saw.

The bright orange flames were getting near my feet, and I screamed as the fire joined in with my despair.

All of a sudden, I instantly sat up on my bed. Cold sweat drenched me from my forehead down to my chest. Good god, I was freezing in a way that words couldn't describe. I glanced out my ajar bedroom window to see the morning sun. I sniffed the air for the smell of gasoline, but all I could smell was the sweet sap from the trees outside.

Oh my god.

It was Monday morning, and I was lying in my comfortable bed. Last night, I had a terrifying dream about being trapped in a room tied to a chair. For some strange reason, I could feel the warm sensation from that fire through my body. Without having to close my eyes to visualize it, I could see those blazing flames melting chunks of my pale flesh away. An eerie voice whispered through it all, "Goodbye, Sunny."

Just thinking about it made my head spin with so much animosity and fear. I didn't know why I had that dream last night or how to comprehend it. I hope it never happens to me or anyone else in general. But to me, dreams were just dreams. They came in and go like small pictures from a movie I can't seem to remember, trying to put them in chronological order.

I rose from my bed with a groggy yawn and peered outside my window by lifting the ledge. The September breeze was everything as I stared below at our unkempt grass. My bedroom was located at the back of our house, giving me a clear view of the backyard. I wished we had a little swimming pool or a trampoline; all that was there were the long grass and those plastic lawn chairs. Our small backyard was surrounded by an old wooden fence that was peeling and adjacent to somebody else's yard as well.

I then pulled out a forest-green sweatshirt from the top drawer of my brown wooden dresser. I took off the $5.99 Goodwill price tag from the collar and pulled it over my head. I had to get ready for my first day back at Tanglewood as a junior. Since I was considering it, it will be hell. I was going back into a school filled with bitchy girls, perverted athletes, and teachers who paid zero attention to the students and how they behaved.

I made sure to wear clothes that showed less skin, but not without taking a warm shower and brushing my teeth. I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror and stared at my features. My honey-blonde hair hung long and loose in dishevel, and my round face looked pale. I had freckles scattered across my nose and cheeks, with a slight blush. But then I remembered the flames ruining everything in my face. I instantly shuddered at the thought of that terrible dream. I was shaken by that, not understanding what it was about or why it occurred.

I rushed down the stairs into the kitchen, hoping to see my mom behind the stove whipping up something for breakfast on the first day.

But no.