The courtyard looked like a mess from all of the lanterns I knocked off of the trees. There were three or so by the door to my room, and I knocked them all over. That was a dumb idea, but at the time I didn't care.

I slammed the door shut and sat in the back corner of the room on the floor. For once, Antonio didn't follow me here. But I wasn't going to think about that asshole. I wasn't going to think about anything. Not Feliciano, not school, not my life, and certainly not about how everyone pitied me. I could only focus on my breathing, rapid yet steady. I had closed my eyes, pulled my knees up to my chest, and buried my head in them, arms wrapped around my legs tightly.

I wasn't sure if tears were streaming down my face or sweat, but I hadn't realized it but the room had gotten extremely hot. But I didn't look up. I didn't care. I had almost died once, what would be so bad if I died for real? Certainly no one would care. Every time I entered or left a room, no one noticed. I was nonexistent to them.

Suddenly I found it hard to breathe.

I looked up and gasped, both for air and in surprise. The room was filling with flames.

I jumped up, but only started choking. My visibility was severely reduced, and I couldn't see the door. I just walked forward blindly. Another dumb idea.

Next thing I knew, I was surrounded in searing pain and heat. It felt like my skin was melting. I had this feeling for a long time, as I collapsed to the floor and finally stopped breathing.

The next morning, all that remained of the room was the door frame, the ashes from the room's interior, and candlewax from the lanterns that had been knocked off the previous night.