I wake up sitting bolt upright in a panic, the same as every other night. My hair is damp from the shower and more sweat from the nightmare. Every night since it happened I've relived the day my house burnt down, the whole reason my mom left her job as a nurse and became a firefighter. Our family was changed forever because of one stupid day.

That day a few years ago my dad had been at work late, as usual, and I'd been kind of snappy with my mom. We were both so angry, we didn't notice the smell of gas permeating the house. We got through dinner and went to bed early due to our anger. I woke to flames crackling at my door and the screams of my mom and baby sister. I tried to break the window but I couldn't, and I passed out until firemen found me. My sister was too young to survive the long time in the smoke.

I felt like I was to blame for the whole thing, no it wasn't my fault the gas had a leak. But it was my fault my mom was upset and didn't notice, it was my fault I wasn't brave enough to run for my sister, it was all me. I wearily rub my forehead and dry my silent tears, the feeling of pity and sympathy around me is making me feel weak. I lay back down and toss around until I fall asleep again, after the nightmare pays its visit I am always blessed with dreamless sleep.

When I wake up I sluggishly get out of bed and move to get ready for school; fixing my dark hair is quick as it's relatively short, I wear similar dark jeans and plain tees everyday, and I brush my teeth. I skip making a full breakfast and settle for an apple instead. I head out to my mustang (hey, having a lawyer dad plus a working mom means you're probably doing okay with money) and lazily drive to school. I thank the stars Cynthia isn't looking for me, for the first time in ages. I seem to have an easy day ahead of me.

Guess who spoke too soon? Ha, me. Apparently the school punk has noticed my easy breezing through the day and decided I needed a little bit of difficulty in my life. I got in a few fights when I was younger so I'm typically left alone by everyone but my closest friend, Tyler. But today I'm interrupted from my thoughts by being slammed into my locker. I glare up at the punk, Josh, "sorry man, was I in your way?!"

"Yeah, actually. Why don't you move, idiot?!" He yells, looking proud of his basic insult. I don't want to deal with this today, but I can't afford a suspension for fighting. I take a breath to calm down and try to back off. "Sure, Josh, sorry." I try to look meek and innocent, even though I know I could take him down in a second. Josh looks taken aback by my sudden calm and innocence and decides to give me one last shove before walking off. When he's out of sight I roll my eyes and murmur something less than kind under my breath.

It feels like someone is watching me studiously, but everyone cleared out when Josh came. This is too weird. "Listen, whoever you are, whatever you are, this needs to stop. Leave me alone, okay?! Just get out of my life and forget about me, I don't need this right now." The feeling changes to puzzled, but doesn't leave. That's just great. I shake my head and head to class.

My first class is science; Ms. Smithson glances up as I walk in late. "Nice of you to join us, Chase, take your seat and we'll talk after class." I nod in acknowledgment of her words and hope she won't give me an extra assignment for tardiness. Science isn't exactly hard for me, but it's not something I enjoy, so sitting through class when I'm already a bit worried is not pleasant in the least.

Class is made even worse with the comments of my lab partner, Lynda. When I was in second grade Lynda and I were best friends and kind of dated, I guess. I was a happy kid and, as far as I can tell, as good a second-grade boyfriend as anyone can be. But one day Lynda came up to me and instead of hugging like usual, shoved me into the dirt and screamed at me to never speak to her again. Needless to say I was pretty upset, after all, she was my first love! My mom tried to talk to Lynda's about it and find out what happened, but Lynda's family has never exactly functioned so we never got real answers. Being partners with Lynda this year has been been a living nightmare, she'll purposely knock or mis-measure chemicals so I'll get in trouble, and she looks at me with the creepiest sneers! Since second grade, Lynda changed a lot, becoming this nasty wisp of a thing, not to say she was totally ugly, but her sudden personality change on top of the greasy hair and bad breath was too much for me to handle.

I don't know if these thoughts of Lynda make me a horrible person, but I'll try to explain a little more (to myself, haha) so I feel like it's a little more understandable, if not justified. One may feel that much has happened since second grade and we should both be changed and able to move on, and I thought we had! We went to separate middle schools, but then all came together again here in high school. Even while in the same school this senior-level science class is the first time I've had any enduring interaction with her since starting high school. When we were assigned to be partners I politely reintroduced myself, in case she forgot, and offered my hand. She literally spit on me. Lynda was able to pass this off to the horrified Ms. Smithson as some kind of awkward sneeze, but the glare she sent toward me told me otherwise. Since that day I've tried a little bit to discuss her despise for me, but she usually ends up cussing me out. I've learned to work quietly and efficiently in science, so we don't interact much.

The feeling that was a bit disgusted toward me when I first mentioned Lynda has now changed to a little disgust for her and respect for me, I hope the respect is because of my efforts to be a good person, and not anything else. I'm not usually the kind that seeks others approval, but with this strange feeling constantly hovering around me, I guess I want it to remain as pleasant as possible.

I've been thinking so much I didn't even realize we'd finished the experiment until Lynda elbowed for being in the way of some of her portion of clean-up. I grunt in response and begin moving again to do my part before class ends. As soon as I finish, Ms. Smithson calls me back up to the front.

"You were late today, Chase."

I nod, even though it wasn't a question.

"Is there a good reason for your disrespect toward my class?" Ms. Smithson asks now, she's actually usually a pretty cool teacher, but takes things a little personally I think.

"I have only respect for you Ma'am, you make this material something I can understand and enjoy! I was held up by a classmate" I sputter, hoping a little bit of sweet talking will save her temper.

"Kind of you to say, that saves you from detention but you will have to do an extra 3page paper on the material covered today" She responds with a glimmer in her eye.

I nod, thank her for the class, and rush out so I'm not late to anything else today. The feeling around me is now contemplative, and while it's still freaking me out, I'm starting to forget what life was like just two days ago when it wasn't here.