And just like that, I get it. Why people jump out of the windows of burning buildings. Even when doing so means certain death.
I’ll be honest, if I could make my way toward a window, I’d consider jumping. The flames are everywhere and I’d do anything to escape them.
I start to sob, but the air is so hot, it hurts my chest. I take one more panicked look around and see only angry walls of flame in every direction. I drop down and crawl under my desk. Even here, the floor is toasty. I squeeze my eyes shut and pull my blouse up over my nose and mouth.
Oh God, the air is now starting to get hot and thick. I don’t think I could open my eyes even if I wanted to.
I drop to a fetal position and start to pray for it to be over. Whatever that entails. I just don’t want to be conscious any longer. A human being should not have to be awake for something as horrible as this.
Please. Somebody. Help me.
I think of my mom.
I wish I could see her one last time, and tell her how much I love her.
The fumes must be getting to me and making me loopy, because the sound of the fire is more distant now, and I’m feeling oddly sentimental.
An image of Jax and Julia drifts into my mind next.
I want to tell them I love them both. And I want to tell Jax not to blame himself. These things happen. You big goof, I just want you to enjoy life.
I hear something explode. It sounds just like it does in the movies.
I feel like I’m on the verge of passing out. That would be nice. To just . . . drift off.
I’ll dream of Joey. If I’m going to die in this cubicle, I might as well go out with happy thoughts.
Suddenly, I hear shouting. Two voices calling my name.
“Bethany!”
“Are you in here! Move if you can hear us!”
“Bethany!”
I try to prop myself on my elbow, but I get so dizzy I immediately collapse. “I’m right . . .” I cough weakly.“. . . here.”
My voice is so weak. There’s no way they could’ve heard that.
Is this how it ends? With me dying, because I wasn’t loud enough? Now that isironic.
I slip back into a semi-conscious daze, and as I do, my imagination is kind enough to let me feel Joey’s arms slide under my limp body and lift me into the air. What a wonderful dream this is.
My knight in shining armor is now whisking me away. Maybe this is what heaven will be like. Being carried by a man who makes you feel small and safe, and . . . loved.
Yes, it’s a lovely dream.
Which is why it’s unfortunate it gets interrupted by a blast of cold air to my face.
The air conditioning in heaven must be cranked up waytoo high.
I hear . . . voices. A police siren. But I’m still floating. No, I’m being carried away.
I open my eyes, and the first thing I see is Joey’s hazel eyes staring into mine with a depth of affection that makes me all gooey inside. A smile appears at the corner of his mouth. His face is sooty, and his long hair is matted down from his helmet. My rugged hero. If I wasn’t still dizzy from the fire, I might jump his bones right this second.
“Are you . . . real?”
He sighs in relief and laughs. Isn’t he a sight for sore eyes. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his stubble only makes him more handsome.
