Jess had always been scared of blood but after the accident it had become worse. 

Jess had been twelve years when she and her parents had gone sightseeing. They had gone to Boreh peak where Jess had gawked at the amazing view. She couldn't help herself from feeling that everything would be okay. Though only twelve she was every perceptive for her age and she could tell that things hadn't been going very well for her parents. Her mother was a lawyer at a local firm , in fact they were taking this trip to celebrate her promotion. Her father on the other hand didn't work. He used to, but one day he came back early and didn't go to work again. She had heard her mother telling a neighbor that he had gotten "The sack" . Jess's dad now stayed home with her and played with her more, Jess was an only child and like any child loved attention. So maybe "The sack" wasn't a bad thin. "God did everything for a reason" that's what her Dad liked to tell her, But her mom didn't see it from her point of view, she saw the way her mom looked at her Dad, like the way teacher looked at her when she couldn't answer a question, But right now they were Loving and that was what mattered, maybe of things worked out well she would have a little brother or a sister, She would like a little sister.

They were driving down the winding mountain road with the two of them sitting in the front and she looking over at the photos she had taken of the mountain view when her mother spoke up.

"Honey I think we need to talk".

"About what?".

"About you getting a job".

" I don't want to talk about it". Jess wanted to tell her mother to stop. That Dad didn't want to talk about a job, but she knew she couldn't.

"So I talked to Al and...".

"I said I don't want to talk about this, and besides we're in a rock fall area".

"Al said his brother in-law is a foreman at a corn field".

"I'm a mechanical engineer not some common labourer!".

Jess had never heard her dad shout before. Her dad was an easygoing person with a contagious laugh. She hoped Mom took the signal and stopped pestering him, he didn't want to talk about this so why couldn't she drop it. 

"What are you going to do when things get difficult". She continued.

" The lord will provide". Jess's father stated in a flat tone, and then as an after thought " Al will probably say anything to get into your pants" 

"You were an engineer Now your not . Now you just sit at home and do nothing, and that's not helping anyone including you or Jessie, you need to get your shit in order, and besides you know what I think about your God ". Why was her mother bringing her into this? She liked as Dad was staying home more now. She heard rumbling and looked up. Rocks rolled down the mountainside making a beeline for them. Her parents were still arguing and didn't notice it.

"Mom.. I think...".

"Jessie can you please keep quiet, me and your Dad are having a serious conversation". Her mother retorted. She was about to give Jess a lecture on interrupting adults when they were talking when the rocks hit. The car was pushed over the flimsy guard rail and hit the rocky ground eighty feet down. 

Jess and her mother were relatively unharmed. Her father on the other hand was not. A piece of metal had stabbed him through the heart. He had died before the paramedics arrived. The paramedics had told Jess that he hadn't suffered, but she doubted that. There was so much blood, so much blood outside that was meant to be in the inside.

She had discovered her strange ability soon after the accident. Her elder brother had destroyed their mother's flower bed in a fit of rage. She remembered kneeling down by them and wishing they were better. It was like someone had pressed the rewind button the flowers had knitted themselves and their color returned. Jess thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen but she passed out for two days. Slowly she had learned what she could do, Alex had helped her.

The fatigue overcame her and she put her head on the table to sleep. The heat woke her up, just before the smoke would have. She woke up with a start, the shelves around her were burning. Panic overcame her and she screamed.

* * * 

Back at the art room Jason was observing his situation. For some reason his shirt was missing. he had probably pulled it off earlier well no time to look for it now. The building was a two stories one He could try jumping out of the window, but the library downstairs was very high and he didn't want to risk it. His safest bet was to follow the corridor and follow the stairs he could hightail it from there. He was still making plans when he heard the scream. It was a loud piercing sound, probably feminine. Someone else was in the building. This changed everything, he had to find and save that person. What was he thinking? He hadn't even thought of a way to save himself and here he was thinking about someone else, but still, he couldn't just leave knowing that someone else was stuck here, probably In a worse condition than him. He had to make a decision and fast. Whether he was going to escape alone or be a hero all depended on how fast and smart he could react to the situation. He couldn't save someone if he was dead.

He looked around, there was nothing useful around just canvases and paint. Jason scratched his head, What else had he expected? This was the art room not some survival camping room. Of course nothing useful would be inside. He saw something out of the corner of his eyes, a couple of blankets. They were probably used to cover other equipments to stop paint from spilling onto them. An idea popped into his head. He went through his backpack. Books, books and more books. When had he always had so many books? There was an apple but he didn't need that. What he needed was the water bottle. Luckily it was still mostly full .

He draped the blanket around his shoulders like a cloak and poured the water on himself. He had read Somewhere that a man had escaped a fire like this. How true it was or whether he had actually read it in a newspaper or in a fiction story he didn't know. Is this what it had all come to? Trusting his life to some random story that just happened to pop into his head? He went back to his backpack and took out his sketchpad. He folded it and stuck it in his waistband. Time to check out his theory.

Author's note: I'm very sorry for any typos, I'm an amateur after all. 

A comic artist is desperately needed.

Please remember to like and subscribe.