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Prologue
Ididn’t belong here, and I never would. I repeated this motto over and over in my mind as I sat and watched the horror film that was my life unfolding around me.
I think I’m going to puke.
Sitting at the kitchen table in my parents’ home, I was silently judging the assholes that my parents call friends. Well, I guess that wasn’t fair. My parents were assholes, too.
Everyone was outside, surrounding my dad at the grill as he told another stupid joke, and my mom was rushing around as people gushed at how wonderful her desserts tasted. As I watched my boyfriend of two years, Allan, laugh at my dad’s jokes as though they were hilarious, I couldn’t help but let out a groan. When he took a bite of my mom’s famous lemon pie and complimented her, I almost came undone. If they only knew she had purchased all of those delectable treats at the local bakery and then threw them into her own cooking pans, they wouldn't be so impressed.
And while everyone was outside, enjoying the beautiful summer evening, I was stuck inside, making sure drinks stayedfull and dishes got loaded into the dishwasher. As the shame of the family, I was forced to stay inside and not humiliate my parents.
“Elizabeth, dear, could you pour some more wine into my glass?” Ms. Donaldson asked, as she swayed slightly to the left.
This was probably her seventh trip to have me give her more wine, but I was sure she didn’t know that.
“Sure.” I smiled, as I topped off her glass.
Smiling at me, Ms. Donaldson watched her husband as he added another stack of BBQ ribs to his plate. Sighing, she turned back to me. “Elizabeth, now that you’ve graduated from high school, what are your plans for college?” she asked, as she took a rather large gulp of her wine.
Pausing, I wasn’t sure how to respond. What I wanted to do was attend an amazing graphic design college in Las Vegas. A place far away from my Southern Kentucky home. Instead, my parents had forced me to apply to a business school at one of the local colleges they had both attended. I hated business. It wasn’t me, but they didn’t care about that. I wasn’t allowed to have an opinion in their eyes. Not even with my love life or lack thereof. They hadn’t even trusted me to make my own decisions on who was right for me. They had set me up on a blind date with Allan when I was a junior in high school. Our dads worked at the same large and prestigious mortgage company. It never mattered whether I liked him or not. In their eyes, being with Allan made me a little more tolerable. To them, I was Elizabeth, the daughter who shouldn’t be here.
Walking into the kitchen, my mom cleared her throat as she narrowed her eyes at me. “There you are, Susan,” my mom said, in a cheery tone as she addressed Ms. Donaldson.
“Yes, I was just asking Elizabeth what her plans are for college. She’s grown up so fast, I just can’t believe she’ll be an adult soon,” Susan replied.
Jumping in, my mom didn’t offer me a chance to talk. “Elizabeth will attend Buckley Business School. We’re very proud of her,” my mom lied, as she provided a fake smile that made my dinner climb its way back up my throat.
Nodding, Susan smiled at me. “That’s wonderful,” she said, before my mom led her out to the backyard patio. The yard was full of lit Tiki Torches and candles. I was sure it was a fire hazard, but there was no sense in telling my parents. They wouldn’t listen to me anyway.
Walking out the door as the party came to an end, Allan spun around and placed a sweet kiss on my lips. I almost cringed from his touch. Not because there was anything wrong with Allan, but because I didn’t love him.
“Good night, Elizabeth. I’ll see you later,” Allan said, as he hugged me before walking to his BMW.
“Night,” I replied, as I faked a smile for his enjoyment.
Sighing, I stood in the doorway much longer than I should have. If only I could just disappear. If only.
The strong aroma of smoke woke me from my deep sleep. It was past midnight and as I lay there, sweating and burning from the heavy heat floating throughout the room, I woke with a blood-curdling scream.
As I struggled to see past my own hands, I screamed out for help.
“Mom. Dad. Where are you?” I cried, as I fell to the floor and searched for the door.
I have to get out of here. My mind became foggy from the smoke. Of course, this was how my eighteenth birthday would go. All my life, my parents had either forgotten or refused to acknowledge my birthday. As the only surviving twin from theirfirst and only pregnancy, I had been blamed for the death of my twin brother who died during childbirth. Somehow, it was my fault that he died instead of me. They had wanted a boy—something they reminded me of daily. I wasn’t sure how it was my fault, but it was. Everything was my fault.
I was confused as I used my hands to feel around the door frame. I had only graduated from high school a week ago, and today was my birthday. Instead of throwing a party, my parents invited their friends over for a cookout. An event I wasn’t invited to attend.
Now, as the heavy smoke strangled me, I realized this was how it would all end for me. I wasn’t meant to be here. I should have died eighteen years ago.
Suddenly, my hand bumped into the wall and as I slid my fingers up, I felt the warm glass from my window. Hope washed through me as I realized maybe I had been wrong. Maybe I could get out and survive this.
Placing my hands on the scorching-hot windowsill, I used the only strength I had left to pull myself up. Even as the searing-hot glass burned my skin, I refused to give up my fight. I could see the stars shining down on me as I prayed for just another minute of air so I could escape this blaze.
Lifting the glass, I was blasted with the cool night air. Coughing again, I held my breath as I lifted myself out of the window. As my body fell onto the damp grass below, I finally allowed myself to cry. I had been too scared and confused earlier to let my emotions prevail. Now that I was safe, I could feel again.
Lying on the ground, I heard the faint sounds of sirens in the distance, coming this way. I was sure a neighbor had called the fire station when they first saw flames. Glancing up at my house now, I saw only orange and red flames dancing around thestructure. No longer did I see the white brick, ranch-style home that my parents adored and possibly loved more than me.
“Are you okay?” I heard my dad ask, from the front of the house. I was hidden in the grass below my window, and I was certain no one could see me.
