Escaping Reality

I cannot understand the words no matter how hard I try.
    I blink against black and white dots, and a wave of nausea overcomes
    me. Throwing
    away the blankets, I rush to the bathroom and go down on my knees
    in front of the toilet. A pinching sensation pierces my head and everything
    goes black again.
    I cough against the smoke, flames licking at my doorway, and there is
    nowhere to go.
    “Amy!
    “Mom! I’m in my room!”
    “Stay there. We’re coming for you.”
    I wait, and the sounds of the fire eating away at wood have my bones
    rattling. “Mom?”
    Nothing.
    “Mom?”
    She screams and I suck in smoke at the horrific, blood-curdling sound,
    coughing with the impact and trying to cry her name.
    “Mom!” I finally manage. “Mom!”
    She’s still screaming. And screaming. “Mom!”
    “Amy!”
    My brother’s voice rips through the hallway and the hell I am living,
    bringing with it hope. “Chad! Get Mom! Help Mom!”
    “Listen to me, Amy,” he shouts, but all I hear is my mother, still
    screaming.
    “Mom! You have to help her. Chad, help her!”
    “Listen the fuck up, Amy. I can’t get to you. Go to the window.”
    “Mom!” I shout.
    “Amy, damn it, go to the window or you are going to die.”
    Die. My mother is dying. I want to go to her but the flames climb
    closer, inside my room.
    On wobbling legs, I go to the window.
    “Are you at the window?” Chad shouts.
    “Yes. Yes.”
    “Open the window and jump.”
    I do it. I open the window and look down into the darkness below.
    “It’s too high.”
    “You were a gymnast for years.”
    “Who quit because I was afraid of heights!”
    “Jump, Amy, and make it count. Do it.”
    My mother is no longer screaming. My mother is—
    “No!” I shout. She can’t be dead. “I can’t jump. I can’t jump.”
    “Jump, Amy. Jump now or I will come through the flames and die
    trying to get to you.”
    I gasp. “I’ll jump. I’ll jump.” I climb out of the window and I look back
    toward the flames and then forward. I hold my breath and jump.

Chapter Twenty

    “Amy. Amy. Wake up. Please, baby. Wake up.”
    I blink through a sticky sensation on my face. “Liam?”
    “Yes. Thank God. You scared the hell out of me.” He grabs a towel
    and presses it to my head.
    I focus on the red stains on his light gray t-shirt. “I’m bleeding?”
    “You hit your head and cut it open. We need to get you to the ER.”
    I grab his arm. “You’re here. How are you here?”
    “Yeah, baby, I’m here and I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
    Any reply I might have had is lost to the roll of my stomach. “Oh,” I
    gasp. “I’m going to be sick.” I grab for the toilet and Liam holds my hair
    back and manages to keep the cloth on my head as I embarrassingly throw
    up. “I really don’t want you to see me like this.”
    “Nonsense. Can you hold the towel to your head so I can get you
    some clothes?”
    “Yes.” I take it from him. “I’m good. You’re sure I need stitches?”
    “One hundred percent.”
    I squeeze my eyes shut against the sound of my mother’s screams
    echoing in my mind.
    And I hear Chad calling my name. Amy. Amy. But I wasn’t Amy then. I
    was Lara. Why was he calling me Amy? Is my mind trying to tell me
    something, or am I so removed from my past that there is nothing but Amy
    left? Jump. Jump now.
    “Amy.” I jump at Liam’s hand stroking down my hair. “Easy. Are you
    okay?”
    “Yes.” But I’m not. I want to tell him everything. I want to tell him
    more than I want my next breath, but that nightmare has reminded me
    how very real the danger I am in is, and I am not clearheaded enough to
    decide what that means for him. For us. “I’m dizzy.”
    “I’m guessing you have a concussion. Can you stand up so we can get
    you dressed?”
    “Yes.” He helps me to my feet and I feel pathetic when he has to
    practically put my shorts on me and then tie his shirt at my waist. He drops
    sandals at my feet and I slide into them. He puts the toilet seat down. “Sit.
    Let me call for a car service before we head downstairs.”
    Ten minutes later we exit the hotel and the doorman pulls open the
    passenger door of a black sedan for me. My head is spinning and my
    stomach is queasy and Liam helps me into the car.
    “Amy. What the hell?”
    Liam and I both turn to find Jared standing there. “Did he touch
    you?” He glares at Liam.
    “You son of a bitch, did you hit her?”
    “No!” I exclaim. “No. Jared, I