American Sweethearts

11

My body scathes over the asphalt, tearing the edges of my clothes. I thrash back and forth, making the pain even worse. I can feel the stones scraping my skin. I let out a loud cry, begging for someone to help. I shove at the door, trying to get it off my leg, but it won't budge.

"Help!" I sob. "I need help!"

I scream into the street, hoping someone will hear me, but I know they can't. The sound of the fire is too loud. The flames engulf the cars, filling up the air with grey smoke. All I can see is orange and darkness.

I sit up, putting all my energy into freeing my leg. But it's no use. I need to get the fucking door off my leg! There's blood all over the ground, and there's nowhere it could've come from besides my leg. There are glass shards all over the place, but the smoke it too thick for me to see through.

"Sarah!" I hear.

"Mum?!" I respond.

"Sarah! I'm here!"

"Where are you?" I cry. "Mum, I need you!"

"Its okay, darling. You're going to be okay."

"Where are you?!"

"I'm here!"

"I can't see you!"

I spot a dark figure crawling through the smoke. I can barely make them out, but I know it has to be her. I reach out to her, but the metal of the door has gotten too hot. It burns my skin, making me cry out in pain.

"I'm coming!" mum calls, but she doesn't make it. As soon as the words leave her mouth, a loud bang sounds, spreading the fire even further than before. The force pushes me back down. I cry out in pain, feeling the heat. I shut my eyes, trying to clear my vision.

It's too hot. It's way too hot.

"Mum!" I sob. "Help!"

The sound of sirens makes me open my eyes, but I wish I hadn't. I scream so loud, I choke on my own spit. Inches away from me, lays my mothers head.

My body is jolted awake, my eyes opening in the process. I sit up straight, my heart thumping in my chest. I eye my surroundings. I'm in my room in Owens apartment. I can feel my eyes watering, but I ignore it. I'm already going to be extra anxious for the next few days, and I don't want to cry about it.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. It was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. I look around my bed, searching for my phone. My headphones must've fallen out of my ears.

I need to visit my mum soon. It's been too long.

I step out of bed, sliding into my slippers in the process. I check on Lena, but she's still fast asleep. The last thing I need is to bother her even more. She already does so much for me.

As soon as I step into the hallway, I'm met with the sound of voices. I hesitate, noticing the tone of the conversation. I peek around the corner. Tyler is sitting on the kitchen floor, leaning against the wall. There's blood pooled over the tiles, coming out of his leg. He's holding a bottle of Jagermeister.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?" he grumbles into his phone. "I don't give a fuck! I'll fucking kill that son of a bitch!"

I take a quick moment to take him in. He's shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. There's a bunch of red marks over his skin, and a giant bruise around his waist, reaching down to his hip. To my disappointment, I can't make out any of his tattoos. His bruises from the other day have been replaced by new ones. His lip is bleeding, too.