The last thing I would ever want to tell a stranger is my whole life story. This guy was no exception. I marched down the hallway, patting around for my phone. Found it in my back pocket, but the screen had a large crack right through the center. The screen shone 3:24 a.m. back at me. Stomping out the hallway, I found Isaiah having a chuckle with Alex. His face lit up when he saw me.

“You’re okay!” He practically screamed, jumping up to hug me. I pushed him to arms length.

“Izzy, we’re leaving. Right now.” I tried to pull him towards an exit, but he resisted.

“Wait, wait, shouldn’t you rest longer? You’re friend Alex and I-”

“Alex is not my friend.” The boy strolled out of the hallway and leaned against the wall with the same, stupid air of indifference as before. I refused to look at him. “We are going home.” Finding the front door, I yanked on his arm once again and he came stumbling.

“Don’t let it hit you on the way out.” yelled the boy from inside. With a scoff, I slammed the door behind me. Deep breathes, I shakily took in the early morning air, it smelled like smoke.

“Megan? You’re hurting me.” turning to Isaiah, I finally notice the vice grip I had on his arm. I quickly let go. He rubbed his arm and looked me up and down.

“What’s with you? If it weren’t for them, you might’ve suffocated out there.”

“Can we do this after we get home?” I started walking down the street.

“What about that thing Alex was talking about earlier!? What did you do!?” he yelled, trying to catch up.

“Will you shut up for like, two seconds!? It’s none of your business!” Isaiah scowled. He grumbled down at his shoes.

“I’m sick of being in the dark.”

I sighed. “You’re just a kid, Izzy.”

“You are one year older than me.” He sneered.

“Yeah, well, that year means a lot in the grand scheme of things.”

The trek home was long and silent. Isaiah lagged behind, I couldn’t see his face, but I would hear the occasional sniffle. People stood in driveways, sat on porches, and climbed onto roofs. No one jeered or haggled me, they were all too distracted.

The distant fire had begun in the east, but it’s orange tendrils were reaching westward. From one side of town to the next, just like me. Those who were balanced on their roof tiles yelled to each other about the careful arc the fire had maintained, all to avoid any houses on the outskirts of town. Walking through the streets, I heard at least fifteen people on the phone with the fire department, all dutifully reported a wildfire just outside of town. All were met with the same response.

On the east side of town, things were quieter. No one gawked outside, no one called 911, the air was calm, even Isaiah stopped sniffling. All the neighbors’ cameras blinked like one-eyed cats in the dark. My house, the object of their electronic stares, stood in silent pride, the fact that we still lived in it was treason enough.

I showed Isaiah how to climb the terrace up to my room window, following close behind in case he fell. When I climbed through my window, I found him staring solemnly at a picture of us I kept on my desk. I turned him around, he had teared up again, so I gave him a big hug. Isaiah always was an easy crier, but I never minded. Pulling away, I rubbed his arm and whispered to him.

“Sleep tight, Izzy.”