How far would you go? (Currently Editing)

Debbie

The house was dark and looking down the stairs, Debbie listened. She was shaking, and held on to the railing, hoping to steady her hand. Then Debbie heard a door creak, followed by silence which lingered in the air. Her warning had worked. Or had it been her imagination? Debbie felt a sudden sense of relief come over her, but she had to check. For her to sleep again, Debbie had to be sure no one was here.

With each tentative step, Debbie started to realise something was wrong. She stopped and sniffed the air, puzzled. What was that smell? It was coming from downstairs and it was strong. She tried to figure out what it was. That uneasy feeling had returned, and her stomach began to churn. She carefully took her another step when she figured it out. It was strong and distinctive, and burnt her nostril hairs. Petrol. The smell was petrol. That sudden realisation sent a chill through Debbie. Fear gripped her and she raced down the stairs, knowing that smelling petrol could only mean one thing. It was too late. She only managed to reach to ground floor, when a yellow light engulfed the lower lever, illuminating every corner with a bright burning light. She stepped back in horror. Debbie knew straight away what had happened and screamed in terror. The house was on fire. The heat from the flames was intense and quickly shot up the walls. Debbie had one option and rushed away from the fire, looking for a way out.

By the time the glamourous woman reached the ground floor the flames were growing in intensity. Caught by the fumes, fire roared around the room, looking for more fuel to gorge on. Finding plenty of petrol, the flames lapped up the liquid, enraged by the rising petrol fumes and erupted. Debbie shielded her face from the intense heat, screaming for help. The back door was ablaze. The sofa was burning, fabric melting. Flames shot up the walls, engulfing everything in its path. Debbie was panicking. The rear of the house was burning. She tried to move toward the front door, shouting for help. The only response she got was the cracking of wood and the roar of flames moving around the house. She ran down the hallway, smashing into a sideboard, sending a picture crashing to the floor. Her wedding pictures. The doorway ahead, leading to the kitchen was now wrapped in fire and the intense flames were moving into the hallway. Debbie had seconds before she flames blocked her path to the front door. Still screaming, she leapt forward, full of adrenaline and fear. Debbie had to get out, this was her last chance.
She could feel the heat increasing, the fire was moving quickly, ready to block any chance of escape. The smell of petrol of intoxicating, and the scent rose into her nostrils. It was everywhere. Why would someone do this? Who had done this? Those thoughts went through her head, just as she dodged the flames from the kitchen door. The floor was wet from petrol, and her bare feet were soaked from the liquid. Two more steps and she would be at the door.

Moving rapidly, Debbie reached out to grab the door. She was bearing down on the handle when her foot slipped on the wet floor. Her left foot rose in the air, and sent her slim body flying backwards. She desperately tried to steady herself, but the momentum from running, caused her to lift off the ground and smash hard on to the petrol-soaked floor. The fire was coming for her, moving like an animal hunting its prey. Debbie could feel the heat. Her heart was pounding, knowing she had to get out and her eyes were wide with fear. She tried to get up, winded from the fall, and saw the red and yellow flames sliver into the hallway. It wound its way along the trail of petrol, growing in intensity, getting bigger and bigger. She was trapped. The stairs behind her were now blocked. Flames roared along the carpet, turning the once cream flooring into a scorched black mess. She quickly pulled her feet in when she felt a burning sensation along her sensitive soles. The fire had also wound its way through the kitchen and snuck in front of her, heading for the front door. Debbie screamed and leapt to her feet. The door was soaked in the strong liquid and before Debbie could unlock the door, the fire found the fumes and shot up the white frame. She recoiled backwards, avoiding the deadly fire.
'Help! Please someone help!' She screamed at full volume. The fire responded to her cries and came rushing toward her. Debbie sobbed, knowing that there was nothing she could do. Her last thought was of Russell. The love of her life.

Outside, a few lights had come on from the neighbour's houses. The glow from the fire had lit up the street and many of the street's residences had rushed out. A few brave souls had ventured closer toward the main door, hoping to help those trapped inside. Yet, the fire had other ideas. The lower floor was wrapped in flames, and the windows shattered, sending an inferno rushing out of the windows, seeking the oxygen it longed for. There was nothing left to do expect wait for the emergency services and watch the flames dance elegantly around the house.

Why Sam? Why would you do that? I can hear you say. You know why. Debbie was a liar, and I don't like liars. She was supposed to be Luke's friend, and she lied to him. Remember, I'm doing this for Luke.