Flames Ignite My Fear | Teen Ink

Flames Ignite My Fear

December 4, 2019
By laracnic BRONZE, Barrington, Rhode Island
laracnic BRONZE, Barrington, Rhode Island
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I heard the echoes growing louder, but I wasn’t quite sure what I was hearing. The screeching of shoes on the floor. Voices bouncing off of the corridor walls. The thuds of feet running down the stairs. It was 2017 in little Passivalle High School, I was in study hall at 9:15 a.m. It was a really small class with about four of us in total. Mrs. Andrews was known around the school for not being the most on top of things so had been entrusted with the seemingly simple task of overseeing the group. The group consisted of a bunch of students who were almost entirely disinterested with the educational opportunity that surrounded them. There was Logan, the stereotypically buff jock; Sarah, who I hadn’t seen lift her eyes from the proximity of her phone for an entire year, and then there was Abigail who was yet again ditching. No one seemed too bothered by the disruptions in the hallway, probably because they weren’t doing any work to be distracted from. I was always the only one working hard to better myself in hopes of getting into a college good enough for me to figure out what the heck I wanted to do with my life. This paralleled my mantra of life, “get by.” Not very sentimental, I know, but I was working with what I had. My uncoordinated, non artistic, somewhat smart, comic-loving self. You guessed it, the nerd of the hour. Always have been, always will be. Now, enough of the pity party because my trigonometry homework was not even halfway done. But what on earth was going on in the hallway? I mean, even when the pep team parades through the halls, they aren’t that loud. 

“Excuse me, Mrs. Andrews. Do you have any idea what is going on in the hallway?”

In lieu of any response, she stared me down and rolled her eyes. By now people had officially started screaming in the hallways, and not squealing like majority of the female teenage population, but screaming in full panic. Logan and Sarah were paying attention now due to the increase in volume. Logan, in his monotone, I-don’t-give-a-crap voice spoke up and said, “Yo, something isn't right out there, Mrs. Andrews.” Wow, that must be the first time he’s said something that wasn’t enitrely of an idiotic nature. All Mrs. Andrews had to say to that was, “Alright, I’ll take a look in the hallway to shut you whiners up.” Logan and I made eye contact and shrugged. She made her way to the door and opened it before getting thrown back into the classroom by people running at full speed toward the staircase. 

“Hmmm,” she pondered, “that is a little odd. I’ll just call the office to see what these fruitcakes are racing around for.” She dialed the number and our classroom abruptly became engulfed by complete silence. Dead silence. All that was left was the sound of the ringing telephone. What happened to everyone in the hallway? I glanced to the small window at the top of the door. There was nothing outside. 

“Uhhh those office ladies hate me. They don’t even pick up!” Mrs.Andrews complained.

“They have to pick up. I’m pretty sure it’s like their job,” Sarah said grunting.

“Well they seemed to have shut up, so you prissies can get back to your studies,” Mrs. Andrews said looking right in my direction. But I was preoccupied, something wasn’t sitting well. Logan was correct in saying something wasn't right. The dead silence was excruciatingly deafening. Trig could screw it, I needed to figure this out. Without anyone caring enough to stop me, I burst out the door and looked around the hallway. There was nothing in sight. Still confused, I went to the staircase where all the commotion had sounded to have originated. Now, not a single person. Just before I turned back to study, I looked out of a thin window at the base of the stairs. And saw what looked to be our entire school out on the football field. What are they all doing out there? How come we aren’t out there? I sprinted as fast as I could back to the classroom and told them all what I had seen. They all came to see as well, Mrs. Andrews even trailed behind with a vague sense of intrigue. I ran back down the stairs to the door this time and tried to open it, but I couldn’t. I pushed harder but it was not budging. Logan, thinking I was just weak, tried but even he couldn’t open it. We went to the window and began banging on it to get people’s attention, and after a few minutes, people turned to see us. Having been alerted of our whereabouts, our principal was visibly agitated. Unable to hear anything from outside, I could still see the terrified glances the faculty were exchanging. Although inaudible to our peers, we began to scream and point asking them how to get out. Everyone simply looked around, unsure of what to tell us. Students were communicating with us from Sarah’s phone (there actually was a practical use to being popular). The texts read that there had been a fire drill and the building had accidentally gone into lockdown mode as well. So we weren’t in imminent danger. The large group began to vacate the football field until they were out of our sight. On their way, many students had looked back at us with the same fearful expression that the faculty had displayed just minutes ago, once again peaking our confusion. Logan, Mrs. Andrews, Sarah, and I were all gathered around the phone when a call informed us that the other side of the school was in flames. Our hearts were synchronized in their plummet. This was it, we couldn’t get out. 

“The fire alarm that went through the intercom must not have gotten through in our room,” I whispered to myself.

With this news known to everyone outside for some time now, we realized that they had followed the evacuation protocol and were headed to the nearby middle school. The principal had been making phone calls the entire time and the firefighters were on the way. The scent of blazing fire was wafting towards us now, and we all knew there was no stopping the roaring flames from taking our lives along with the rest of the building. By now, through the window, we could see the smoke rising and the wind blowing the flames to our side of the school. The reddish orange glints in the smoke made the fire burn even brighter in our eyes of fear. 

“Well, they never told us what to do in this situation…” Mrs. Andrews said, trailing off as she went further toward the top of the stairwell and sat down. I looked around at Logan and Sarah, at this point we were all pretty freaked out. Mrs. Andrews was meant to be the one to protect and help us, but she had already bailed.

“But how are we planning on getting out of here?” Logan said. Everyone turned to look at me. 

“Why is everyone looking at me?”

“You’re the one that has the plans. If anyone is going to get us out of here, it’s you,” Sarah said, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. This had not yet occurred to me. If Mrs. Andrews could not be relied on, I was the next best bet. I thought on this for some time. I was definitely not the one with all of the plans, but I might as well try in this situation. The window would not be breaking unless the fire reached it and the doors would not be budging either, considering a lockdown makes any building insanely secure. 

“Look, the only way to get out of here is to shut off the lockdown system and the principal is the best bet to do so.” I looked in Mrs. Andrews direction but she was zoning out at this point. I guess it really was all on me. Worried for our lives, a few faculty members, including the principal, came back to the football field. We banged on the window and Mr. Briars, the principal, looked up at us. Mrs.Andrews then received a call on her phone that told us the police were on their way to break down the door.  

From our elevated vantage point at the second floor window, we could see the sirens coming toward us but they were still 2 blocks away. The stench that lingered all around us now was just a reminder of how close the fire was. Smoke began to seep under the door, quickly filling the small stairwell. Even over the sounds of our coughs, we could still hear the fire ripping down the hallway beneath us. Soon it would roar right to the door and there wouldn’t be much oxygen left for us. My fear boiled with the realization that the fire would soon consume me alongside people, essentially strangers, in a high school that I couldn’t wait to leave next year. By now, everyone could hear the sirens and felt the same way I did. With a small glint of hope on the horizon, fear ran through our veins as to how this would play out for us. 

“I was about to get into college and make it as an athlete. This stupid fire is going to take everything from me. Even if we make it out of here, I’ll probably still have injuries that won’t be able to pass the physical exam,” said Logan, with a somber expression. I’d never thought of what exactly would happen next. I guess our lives could be altered quite greatly. 

“I was about to quit my waitressing job and pursue my dream in the fashion industry,” said Sarah, “but not if we don’t make it out of here.” I had no idea what was going on in any of their minds and had never had a conversation with them, but now I knew their real fears. If not for our hopes and dreams, what really drove us anyway? I mean, these were the people in school that looked like they had it all, but I suppose in stressful situations, people’s true character is shown. There was smoke all around us now, the walls seemed to be closing in on us. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life, but I was hoping to get there,” I added. Now everything was out there. That really was how I felt. I didn’t have a clue who I was or who I wanted to be. Dying being a person that doesn’t have a true identity was not how I wanted my life to end. I guess in the big picture, I don’t even know what motivates me. What are my hopes and dreams? What could I possibly be remembered for? I don't know who I am, how are others meant to carry on a life that was never fulfilled to have purpose? With everything out on the line, we all turned to look at Mrs. Andrews. She glanced up at us and I could see that her face was tear-streaked. 

“It really is true that it’s not death itself that we are all afraid of, but dying and realizing that we never really lived at all.” And as if on cue, there was a blaring siren and something slammed against a wall. It seemed to be from the bottom of the stairwell. Everything went hazy as I felt dizzy and dropped to the floor. I heard a yell in the distance, and before I knew it, I was being placed on the grass by a firefighter. Logan and Sarah were on either side of me and the paramedics were checking our vitals. I smiled at my classmates and we all shared a moment of relief. My parents had been notified of the whole situation and rushed over to me, once they figured I was okay. I went home and slept for as long as possible.

Six months later, the building was being repaired and we were all attending high school in the next door town. Classes were very large but the whole situation wasn’t all that bad. I would be out of here in a couple more months anyway. Logan, Sarah, and I had started sitting together at lunch everyday, that experience really brought us together. Mrs. Andrews was made an assistant teacher due to her failure in protecting us. Every time I see Abigail, I get a sick feeling in my stomach thinking of how safe she was while we were stuck in danger. Our lives were back on track, though, and I am now planning on being a physician’s assistant. I guess one could say all’s well that ends well. My sole purpose now is to find what I can do in this world while I’m here and not get stuck on the fact that I don’t quite have my legacy all figured out yet. Everything seems to be so clearly ahead of me now that I can’t wait to see what the future holds. 


The author's comments:

This is my first published writing piece and I hope you enjoy this fiction short story.


Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.