Light crept through the blinds, waking me up gradually. I woke up rather pleasantly; I was curled up in a ball, wearing Jaime’s t-shirt and boxers, snuggling into the fabric that smelt like him. I rolled over, reaching for him, needing contact, but he wasn’t there. And when my eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room, I jolted, and my insides felt like they were melting.
It wasn’t the sunlight that woke me up; it was fire. And here I was, lying somewhat peacefully, while flames circled around the bed. The flames whipped and crackled into the dry atmosphere of the room. My heart shuddered; I had no escape. Jaime was nowhere to be found, and I was trapped.

The fire became blinding. The flames rose bigger and bigger, dancing freely before my eyes. The colors of red, orange, blue, and black were mesmerizing as they intertwined in their composition. But one particular flame stood out from the rest. It was darker than the rest, more ominous.

I remained paralyzed, now sitting in the middle of the bed. “I don’t want to warn you again,” the fire hissed. I shivered. I felt like the fire was sucking the soul right out of me. What soul? A voice that sounded awfully familiar murderously screeched in my head.

My entire body cramped up at the torturous threats that Drew Sanders continued to shoot at me. I was lying down straight on my back, now, absolutely rigid and unmoving as he circled me. He moved from flame to flame, whispering terrible things to my veins, and my eyes frantically watched him dart around me terrifyingly. Drew Sanders was in charge of this dance of fire; he was the choreographer; he was in control.

A scalding hot object touched my face. I immediately recoiled at the touch, trying to shake it off, but it was Drew Sanders’ hand, gripping my head, his red-hot nails burning into my skin. He forced my head to turn and look at an indistinguishable mass on the floor next to the bed. “This is your entire fault,” his words split through my ears painfully. I stared at what he was talking about, trying to figure out what that was…

“All of it is… it’s all you,” he growled. I screeched in agony, his voice penetrating my brain like blades penetrated skin. This was my entire fault… I stared closely at what he was forcing me to look at…

“How many people have you killed now, Spencer?” his laugh echoed murderously through the walls of the now collapsing structure. “Yes, you are the murderer, silly girl…” he taunted again.
My eyes rolled into the back of my head, my back arched, I let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Drew Sanders was angry now. Normally he was calm, an eerie calm. But now, he aggressively held both sides of my face, jerking my head to look at the body that was turning to ash on the floor.

“Look at what you have done!” he screamed, his voice like acid.

“No!” I cried helplessly, my voice rough and torn. I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed. I screamed for the body on the ground, I screamed for the man I learned to love, I screamed for Jaime. I screamed for the terror that Drew Sanders’ instilled in me, I screamed, and I screamed some more. “No!” I moaned. I reached for Jaime, but he was long gone. His body was slowly reducing to nothing… I reached out again anyway, but now the fire was too close, and it burnt my hand, engulfing me as well.



I woke up sweating, as if a fire was still blazing around me.

“Spence, you look sick,” Jaime said quietly, touching my forehead with the back of his hand.
Drew Sanders’ voice rung in my ears: “Look at what you have done!”

I’ve never had a dream so intense before; I’ve never had a nightmare with so much passion… I felt like I was going to be sick. “This is your entire fault.”

I jumped up and raced to the bathroom, not making it in time to the toilet and throwing up into the sink. “Yes, you are the murderer, silly girl…” I threw up again. “How many people have you killed now, Spencer?”

“Spencer!” Jaime jumped over to me in worry, holding my hair back as I continued to get sick.
I collapsed into Jaime’s arms, my body completely failing. I couldn’t speak. I spotted myself in the mirror as I fell down in what seemed like slow motion; my face was thin, and my cheek bones stood out more than normal; I had large circles under my eyes; my skin was a ghastly pale; my eyes were wide and shocked, but also sunken in, and they slightly rolled back as I fell. I looked like a corpse. I felt like a corpse.

“Jesus—fucking—Christ,” Jaime gasped, gripping me tightly. “Spencer!” he touched the side of my face desperately while I twitched uncontrollably in his arms. I couldn’t see anymore, and I couldn’t breathe.

I heard Jaime call for help as I continued to convulse on the ground. I was trapped in my own body. I looked for an escape, but I was helpless. I was a mere prisoner of my own mind; my own body was against me; I was choking on my own self.

I could dimly see a blurry figure that must be Jaime hovering over my trembling body frantically, and then I saw Vic and Mike in the corner, Mike on the phone, Vic just staring…

My eyes rolled back into my head again, the inside of my head flickering with madness, pain, and fire.

~~

My eyes burned when I opened them, like they were made of fire. My brain burned, too.
Everything was heavy and uncomfortable; I didn't know where I was or how I got there. I patted my arms on the surface that was under me: a bed. Not just any bed, because I noticed the sterile white sheets and the tubes tracing against my body. In my peripherals I saw a very distraught and traumatized looking Jaime. There was no other possibility of my whereabouts; I was in a hospital.

“I’m in here way too much,” I muttered, rolling my head to the side to look at Jaime. “What happened this time?”

“You had a seizure,” his voice broke. “It was the scariest thing I have ever seen… it was the scariest thing that I will probably ever see…” he added. He looked like stone, but I laughed irrationally in my head. He didn’t even know what “scary” was.

But a seizure? I’ve never had one before. I wondered what triggered it…

“How many people have you killed now, Spencer?” I felt the color drain from my face when I remembered again… I shuddered.

“It’s okay, Spence, just relax,” Jaime reached over to comfort me. I stared at him, wide-eyed. I felt… I felt… crazy. I didn’t know how to relax…

“I’m so scared,” I whispered through my teeth, as if Drew Sanders himself could hear me… I shuddered again.

“Please don’t be scared, love. I’m here for you, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, smoothing back my hair. His hand moved from my hairline to the side of my head numerous times in a certain rhythm. It was relaxing, and when he stopped and rested his hand on the side of my face lightly, I turned my head to the side so I sighed into his palm.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed.

“What? Why are you sorry?” Jaime shook his head, scooting closer to me as he did so. “You did not do anything,” he said firmly.

“I love you,” I said, looking him dead in the eyes.

“I love y—”

“I love you,” I repeated, cutting him off. “And I am sorry for that,” I said flatly.

Jaime tilted his head to the side. “What are you talking about?” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“I have so many problems, Jaime. I come with so much… so much baggage,” I said. He opened his mouth to say something, but I continued. “I don’t understand why you love me. I am an absolute mess. I don’t understand how being around me is even enjoyable. I’ve literally made your life hell, and I’m sorry for that,” I finished.

“Being around you is enjoyable. You just have your bad moments, which I don’t blame you for. You did nothing to make your life this way; you have been unfairly targeted and harassed and hurt you’re entire life, but you don’t deserve any of it,” he said.

“If I don’t deserve it, why does it keep happening?” I said quickly before he could continue.

“I don’t know, Spencer, I don't know. But what I do know is that I can fix you. Why won’t you let me fix you?” he furrowed his eyebrows sadly.

“It’s impossible to fix me,” I whispered. “I know nothing more than loneliness and pain. That is all,” I said.

“What about love?” he whispered, and I could hear the hurt in his voice over my blatant disregard for that feeling.

I nodded, closing my eyes. “Love, but then guilt,” I said lowly. I decided to explain myself before he asked. “Guilt because it’s not fair for you to love me, or for me to love you. I’ve lived my entire life in fear, knowing that if I get close to someone they will die. Doesn’t that scare you? Look around and see what has happened to you ever since you started to talk to me… only pain and suffering. Love, too. But with love comes pain. And I can’t bear to hurt you anymore, Jaime. Don’t you understand that? Everybody I have gotten close to dies,” I said fiercely, trying to push those words into his skull. “It took two years for my foster family to perish, but it happened. And don’t think it won’t happen again. It will be unexpected, and it will be horrible,” I almost threatened. He stared at me, taking in my warnings. Then he furrowed his eyebrows.

“But look, Spencer. My house fire happened, and I suppose I was supposed to die there… but I didn’t,” he said. “I’m still here. I beat the odds, right? Doesn’t that mean something?”

I shook my head, considering this for a moment, but then dropped the thought. “It can happen again. It will happen again. And you deserve someone who is not dangerous. It’s always one thing after another with me. There’s always a problem, there’s always something wrong, something bad always happens,” I said. “And I feel guilty loving you, because I know I shouldn’t, but I do,” I said quietly.

“Good things happen, too. Why are you trying so hard to get rid of me? I’m not going anywhere, no matter what happens,” he said, and I could tell by the crack in his voice and the look in his eyes that he was close to tears. Shit, I didn’t want that. I never meant to hurt him like that. I wasn’t supposed to be the one causing pain, Drew Sanders was. That was his job; that was his mission.

But him consciously staying with me was literally a death wish. I wondered why…

I nodded. “See what I mean? You deserve somebody who cherishes the good as opposed to lingering on the bad,” I said. I just can’t do this anymore, I thought, putting my hands on either side of my head in distress.

“Shh, just stop, okay? Just stop,” he said gently, moving my hands down and forcing my hands to release their tension.

“W-why did you s-stay?” I choked out.

“Stay?”

“With me! Why didn’t you just leave?” I spat, and I shuddered. My voice… it… it sounded… it sounded eerily familiar… but it wasn’t even mine…

“I would never leave you, and I have never even considered it! I’m so attached to you, and it hurts seeing you like this,” he said.

“Why?” I emphasized. “Why stay with someone if all they do is cause pain?” I cried.

“That’s not true! You are amazing to be with when you are yourself! And I admire you so much for being so strong,” he said. I was not strong; I was weak, and he was wrong. “The two weeks we had at my house were the best two weeks of my life. I wasn’t lonely there anymore, and you filled the hole and made me happy,” he said. My breathing hitched. It had not occurred to me that I was not the only one who was lonely, who had problems…

“You just don’t see how wonderful you actually are, Spence,” his voice softened. “I don’t get how you don’t see it, but it’s true. I adore you. Vic, Mike, and Tony adore you, too. Your… your demons are escalating right now, but you will get through it. We will get through it, and then everything will be okay,” he said. “Drew Sanders will eventually be found and will go to jail, and everything will be okay.” I bit my lip; where was Drew Sanders now? The police are at a dead end looking for him…

I contemplated that for a moment. My life has changed completely with Jaime in it. Yes, a lot of shit has happened, and I was sure more was to come. But things were changing. I could feel it. I could feel that things were never going to be the same in my life again.

So maybe I believed him. Maybe I believed him that everything would be okay. As long as I had him to keep telling me that…

Maybe.

~~

Vic and Mike’s house was quiet when Jaime and I arrived.

“How many people have you killed now, Spencer?” Drew Sanders’ voice echoed through the still atmosphere. I shook my head, shaking out his memory.

I stood in the foyer of the house dumbly. What now?

“I smell like hospital,” I mumbled, not particularly enjoying the sterile smell. An eerie and disturbing thought pushed its way into my head… about preferring a different kind of smell… but, disgusted with myself, I demanded the thought to leave.

“I think I need to take a shower,” I turned to Jaime, who was just standing there, too.

“Okay,” he said. “Are you alright?”

I nodded. It was a lie, but a very good one. I acted like our conversation at the hospital made me feel better about things, but it really didn’t. In the short term, maybe I did feel better. But now that I was back here, in a house that had the potential to burn, I did not feel okay. I felt far from it.
“How many people have you killed now, Spencer?” the words snaked throughout the lobes of my brain. I couldn't think straight. What did he mean by that?

I loved Jaime. I loved being with him. But I knew I couldn’t do this for much longer… Drew Sanders was pushing me to my breaking point. I think part of Jaime knew that, too. The pressure of Drew Sanders’ memory and threats was becoming too much for me. I couldn’t bear to lose Jaime or his band mates permanently—I wouldn't be able to handle it if death took them away. I would much rather take myself away from them, as much as it hurt.

I wish I could have had these thoughts before my biological and foster families died… I could have saved them, too! But I was so young, then… Drew Sanders himself tricked me into isolation and silence so I wouldn’t ask for help because he knew I was a vulnerable, innocent child. I didn’t know any better back then. I was just scared of him, but also scared to do anything about it.

But now I was older; now, I knew that I had options. However, I still didn’t know which option to choose…


I turned on the shower in the guest room. The water was running hot, and it burned my fingertips when I tested it. I alarmingly liked the way it burnt me. I felt like I could catch on fire and turn to ashes, like I could go to hell, where I belonged. I bit my lip, contemplating…

I went into my bag and dug around for something…

I pulled my hand out of my bag, my fingers gently wrapped around a small, metallic object.

No, not a blade.

A lighter. I flicked it open, and the small tiny flame did that familiar dance before my eyes. I smiled. Why did I smile? I brought the flame to my arm, the heat getting closer and closer.
The fire touched my arm, but it didn’t hurt in the way I thought it would. It burned, and the flame caressed the curve of my arm. It was mesmerizing…

I flicked the lighter closed hastily, appalled at what I had just done. I could see a small welt begin to form on the side of the arm where I had put the tiny flame. I wished it were bigger… No, I didn’t! I yelled at myself through my thoughts. I jolted backwards into the bathroom wall, astonished at myself. A thought occurred to me.

Where did I get this lighter?

I felt like I was going to be sick again. I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat, chucking the lighter across the room. What was wrong with me?

Everything.

I turned the shower off, turning it into a bath. I needed to soak away my thoughts and feelings.
I filled it up with hot water and let it sit for a minute before I got in. I sighed, immersing myself into the water. I put my head back, taking a deep breath. The pressure the hot water created on my chest made it hard to breathe, but it was also relaxing. I had to take longer, less frequent breaths, but the pattern was calming.

I could feel myself sink lower and lower into the water. I closed my eyes, now completely relaxed. Nothing was in my brain. I was empty. All of my worries and horrors and feelings were soaked up by the hot water around me. I drained everything from my pores, my soul.

What soul?

There was nothing.

I sunk down even lower in the water, which was now up to my mouth. I needed to completely submerse myself. I needed to wash away every part of me.

I raised my chin up so I could take a deep breath, and then I gently dunked my head completely under water. My lungs were full of oxygen until I decided when I wanted to breathe out. I was in control. Did you know that oxygen was a catalyst for fire?

Everything was quiet under water… too quiet.

“Yes, you are the murderer, silly girl.”

“How many people have you killed now, Spencer?”

“This is your entire fault!”

“Look at what you have done!”

His words pierced through my veins. Water filled my lungs, putting out the fire inside of me.

I screamed.

Notes

Taking a turn for the dark in this chapter.

What is going to happen?


______