I wish Mom never married Sam. If she hadn’t, my whole life would not have gone down the drain. I would’ve gone to NYU rather than Price University where her brand spanking new husband holds an extremely high position as a professor. Even if it is the most prestigious university in the Gulf South, I still do not care about attending, no matter how much Sam persuades me.

If only NYU had not sent me that awful rejection letter.

I stare at the blank ceiling. It's so quiet here, I can hear a pin drop. I miss the sounds of the city. The way I open my curtains every morning and see the backdrop of Manhattan, the Empire State Building somewhere in the distance. That was home. And now this room that has nothing of my soul in it is where I have to spend the rest of my pathetic days.

The only thing I can think of doing is falling asleep. I am nearly lulled into sleep when a loud, ear piercing sound makes me jump. Was it the sound of screams? Distant conversations. Crackling and a distant rumbling.

A nauseating black odor reaches my nose. Dark grey smoke billows like dancing shadows from under the cracks in my door. Soon, the shadows surround me, choking my lungs. Every part of my body. The blistering heat on the wall sears my hands. Hot pokers against my skin.

“Mom!” I call out, gasping as my hands tremble. “Mom! Help! Something is wrong! Mom! Please help!”

She does not respond. My heart explodes like popcorn as I try to open the door, but the pressure is too strong. With one loud soul-filled grunt, I am able to open the door. The windows crack and the walls are imploding, splintering all around me. The floor beneath my feet rumbles as a loud roar approaches fast behind me.

“Mom!” My hands are sweaty, mouth dry as a desert. “Mom!”

A part of the wall crashes down in front of me. A beautiful, frightening dark orange. Indefatigable in its attempt to ravage everything. It is moves closer with every second. The fumes are choking me.

Weak and lost, a dark, intangible sensation trickles up my body as I stumble to the edge of the corridor, moving around the debris and rubble that burns against my skin as I try to make it as fast as possible up the narrow stairwell and into a new place that looks like an observatory. Is Mom here? It is the only thing I care about. We should never have agreed to live here. The tears pool in my eyes as I fight through the debris and the infernal heat.

I will die for you a thousand times over if it means you get a chance of complete bliss.

“Mom! Is that you? Did you just say something?” I call out, hoping that she is here. “The house is on fire! We’re going to die here if we don’t act fast!”

I am drowning in my own sweat as it falls down my face. I am losing energy fast as I try to look for Mom amid the presence poppy flowers and black orchids that choke everything.

A slim figure stands in front of the orchids, and I can barely make her out on the haze that thickens, a dense fog in front of me.

“Mom!” I call out, coming up to her.

She turns around slowly. “I cannot save my mother’s previous flowers! My precious flowers. . .” She is sobbing into her hands.

The woman does not have my mother’s face. She wears a black gown; the lace flowers are black like those orchids. It is unusual—the fashion.

The woman stares through me. Her eyes are hollow—her face is pale, a granite-gray color. She reaches out her hand and almost touches me. She is empty. Translucent. It chills everything until I am frozen inside.

“Whoever you are, please help me!” I say. “My house. . .on fire. Don’t leave me to die here! Where is my mother?” My voice is tear-filled.

“Don’t leave me to die here. Please, someone save me,” she says. Her low, trembling voice is ice, chilling deep into my bones.

My body is incapable of movement. She is advancing even closer to me, still reaching for me.

“No. Help me! Help me get out of here. I don’t want to die here!” My voice sounds like it is under water.

“I don't want to die here,” she says. “I need to say goodbye to him. . . help. . . I'm fading fast. Death is only a moment away.”

She begins to dissipate. Low, howling noises fill the observatory. The figure leaves and I now stand in the same stairwell. Everything is still and calm, like the silence of early morning. Strange. But I know I need to find my mother.

The living room is untouched and there is a faint haze, but no orange fireglow anywhere.

“Mom!” I cry out again. “Where are you? The house is on fire. The house is on fire! Mom! Mom!”

I run everywhere, trying to find any sign of her existence. I sob into my hands. I am the only one here. The only one. Everyone else is dead.

“Mom!” I cry out again. “Mom!”

The dining room. The faint crack of the light. I run inside and see the fully set table. The rich chocolaty scent of Puerto Rican coffee wafts around the room. There, at the head of the table is Sam and my mom sitting in the chair nearest to his.

“Izzy, you’re finally up!”

“Mom,” I choke out. “You’re alive! We need to get out of here. Come on, get up, guys! What are you doing just sitting there?"

“Well, yes. Why wouldn’t I be? We were calling your name for breakfast. Knocked on your door a couple of times too. Ay, mijita, why do you look like you've been outside? You're drenched!”

“No!” I say, breathless as I put my hand over my beating chest. “The house is on fire! Why are you both so calm? There’s a fire!” I scream, bringing myself to the floor.

“Calm down, Izzy. The house is not on fire,” Sam says, laughing heartily. “Why would it be? Did you have a bad dream? You must have. The only fire you’ll be seeing is the bonfire tonight. Remember, it's the first day of classes.”

“No! We need to get out of here now before we all die. Forget classes. You won't have students to teach if we don't get out now!”

Sam shakes his head, taking another duo of coffee.

They do not believe a word I’m saying. My blood rises to a boil. Sam shakes his head and gestures for me to sit down. I ignore it.

“But Mom, I saw it. I felt the heat against my skin. There’s a fire!”

“Isobel, there was never a fire. The smoke detectors would have gone off. I’m pretty sure you were probably having a nightmare.” She sips her black coffee.

“Don't believe me? Then, I'll go check for myself,” I say, slamming my fist on the table. It shakes.

“Izzy, calm down,” Sam says. “I'll come with you and check.”

I leave the dining room and after a minute of searching through the area, I realize that she is right. There is not the sound of roaring fire. The searing heat is now replaced by the cool of the air conditioner. How could this have happened to me?

“Izzy,” Sam says. “See? No fire. Now come and sit with us for breakfast. Your food is getting cold.”

“Not my father.” I huff, brushing past him.

I return to the dining room where my cold plate of ham and eggs waits for me. However normal everything seems right now, I cannot shake the heavy sensation. It is like crushing lead.

Nothing makes sense. How could I see and feel so vividly? What about the Gray Lady I saw in the observatory?

“Mom,” I say, focusing on my plate when I gather my thoughts. “I saw something strange in the observatory.”

She gives me a concerned, confused expression. Scratching her head, she cocks her head to the side. She looks at Sam, who is now walking into the room to sit down.

“Honey, do we have an observatory?”

He pauses, his mug close to his lips. He doesn’t look at me. “No, we don’t have one. Why would we? I mean, there’s the tower, but that’s been closed up for a long time now. You can’t access it. The previous owners built a brick wall."

Come back to me.

"What was that?" I ask, looking around. "Did you hear that just now?"

"We didn't say anything, Izzy," Sam said as he finished up his breakfast. "I think you must be imagining things.”