Iwake coughing.
Lungs burning, chest heaving, I cough so hard I roll off the bed.
My eyes see… nothing.
I put my hands on the ground, push myself up, and my head spins.Everythingspins, and I thud to the floor.
Coughing.
I can’t stop coughing.
Even as I fight to get back on my feet, my mind is busy untangling the mystery of how my apartment came to be filled with smoke.
I went to work, came home, ate the same boring dinner I always have because cooking was something I always did for him, never me, and I refused to do it again.
I remember unlocking the front door and triple-checking that I’d locked it before I went to shower off the diner smells. Just like usual. All my windows had been shut. It was much-needed reassurance that no one had been in my apartment while I’d been at work. My mind was calm and my body relaxed as I showered, brushed my teeth, and crawled into bed to rest up for the night before another long day at the diner.
But now I can’t breathe.
There’s no mystery about who or why.
I know who did this, even if I’m not sure about thehowjust yet.
The how can come later.
There’s only getting my feet up from under me and getting out before this building burns with me trapped inside of it.
With my lungs continuing to burn, I stagger across my bedroom, press my sleeve to my mouth, and crack the door open.
The smoke reaches me before the heat does.
If I could crawl under my bed or smash the window and climb out that way, I wouldn’t hesitate. That isn’t an option. I’m on the second floor above a flower shop. If I jumped, I’d be lucky if the only thing I broke were my legs.
I don’t want to go down the hallway. It’s where the thick smoke is coming from, which means it’s also where I’ll find the source of the fire.
But I can’t stay here.
With the sleeve of my PJs over my mouth and nose, I start walking toward the smoke and the heat.
My eyes burn, and every instinct in me wants to run the other way.
If you stay you die, I tell myself, so I keep going.
With one hand braced against the wall, I feel my way down the hallway, and past the bathroom I washed up in minutes or hours ago. What time is it?
Stumbling and staggering, rocked by a coughing fit that never stops, I inch closer to the front door I can’t see.
The building groans, a deep shudder that vibrates through the floor.
I freeze, my heart pounding.
Don’t stop,I scream at myself, envisioning myself crashing through the floor and slamming into the flower shop below.
Maybe I should have gone out the window and been grateful for two broken legs.
I put one step in front of the other, not letting myself think of anything but escape.
I cough so hard my vision blurs. My knees tremble, and tears stream from both eyes.
