Chapter 2

The flames shot up the synthetic curtains like a greedy red snake, licking at the countless award certificates plastered all over the walls.

The edges of those certificates curled, blackened, and fell as ash.

It was like a black snow.

Mom had already retreated outside the door.

She was frantically pounding on the steel door, even kicking it.

Not to save me, but to make me give in.

"Ashley! Do you understand what you did wrong?"

"Tell me loudly, will you get a perfect score next time?"

"Say it! Say it, and I'll let you out!"

Her voice, muffled and shrill through the metal door, sounded like nails scraping a chalkboard.

I huddled by the couch in the corner, the intense heat causing a strange, phantom pain on my exposed skin.

My throat seized up from the thick smoke, each breath like swallowing burning coals.

I wanted to speak, but no sound came out.

Even if it could, I wouldn't say anything.

I was too tired.

Honestly, just too tired.

I remembered half an hour ago, I just wanted to lie on the couch for five minutes.

Just five minutes.

To prepare for this test, I hadn't touched my bed in three days, so tired I felt like I was floating when I walked.

But now, it was so hot around me, yet I felt a cold shiver deep inside.

I saw the shredded 99% test paper curl in the fire pit, that bright red "99" turning into a heap of black ash.

I thought about going to the bathroom to wet a towel.

My survival instinct made me move my leg.

Then I saw the empty doorframe.

The bathroom door? Mom had ripped it off last month.

She said I took too long in there, probably secretly reading novels or hiding from vocabulary drills. How was I supposed to hide with no privacy at all?

And now, the water source was on the other side of the inferno.

The fire was too big; Mom had poured alcohol on it to fuel it earlier.

I couldn't get through.

I leaned back against the corner, watching the flames devour my desk.

It was my battlefield, and my execution ground.

Now, let it all burn.

The pounding outside the door continued, accompanied by loud kicks.

"Ashley, you're being stubborn, huh?"

"Not going to talk, huh?"

"Fine, let's see how long you can last!"

"You ungrateful brat! Even a dog knows how to wag its tail. I should've gotten a dog instead of you!"

I'd heard those words for seventeen years.

As long as I could remember, they were served with every meal.

Before, I would cry, I would beg her on my knees, I would swear I'd get a perfect score next time.

But today, I didn't want to kneel.

Rather than crawl out to face her yelling, to face the endless practice questions, to face her perpetually disappointed eyes.

I'd rather just sleep here.

My consciousness began to fade.

My body felt so heavy, like it was filled with lead, yet also like I was floating on clouds.

Finally, I could rest.

Even on the scorching floor.

Even surrounded by deadly toxic smoke.

Through the door crack, it was no longer air seeping in, but her desperate, screaming curses.

"Why don't you just die! You're a waste of space just living!"

Mom, as you wished.

I'm really going to die.

In the last blurry moment of my vision, I saw a corner peeking out of my backpack's side pocket.

That small, silver tin box.

It was the hand cream I'd saved three months of breakfast money to buy.

I wanted to put it on her hands, those hands covered in cracks.

I wanted to tell her, Mom, I feel for you too.

But there was no chance now.

Darkness surged like a tide, completely engulfing me.

I closed my eyes in the raging fire, with a light smile.

This sleep, finally, no one could wake me from.