She didn’t want to admit her delusion. Instead, she blamed Mom, Dad, and me.
She thought we ruined her love.
I left the room as she looked like a maniac and locked the door.
Mom and Dad were at the door, looking at me with worry.
Mom wiped her eyes, her voice trembling and resolute: “Your dad and I contacted a mental hospital. Let’s send Ashley away in a few days. If she stays here, she’ll be
a threat to us.”
Even though I knew this was the best way, my heart still hurt a little.
The noise in the room stopped.
We knew Ashley had heard us.
Dad suddenly seemed much older, knocking on Ashley’s door and using his cane: “Ashley, it’s not good for anyone if you stay here… Listen to us and get your illness treated. We’ll come to pick you up.”
After a long time, we heard Ashley crying in the room.
Mom, Dad, and I looked at each other and walked away with tears in our eyes.
The day we sent Ashley to the mental hospital, she acted unusually well–behaved. The mania and stubbornness from the past few days were gone, and she was like a different person.
Mom, Dad, and I were overjoyed, and we thought that Ashley had really gotten better.
But we didn’t see the darkness in her eyes.
After helping Ashley pack her things, we couldn’t find her anywhere.
Dad anxiously made phone calls: “She was sitting in the living room a minute ago. How did she disappear? Did you see her?”
Mom and I shook our heads.
“eeling“”
As we were anxious, we heard a door lock. I suddenly had a bad feeling: “Ashley!”
We saw Ashley’s thin face in the window, full of resentment.
Mom, Dad, and I shuddered.
I felt the familiar fear of death.
The next second, Ashley’s room exploded. The flames instantly lit the curtains that had been soaked in gasoline, and they quickly spread throughout the entire hou-
- se.
Mom, Dad, and I were caught off guard.
No wonder I thought there was always a smell of gasoline at home. It turned out that Ashley had used the past few days to pour gasoline all over the room while we weren’t home.
But her door was locked. How did she get out?
Before I could think, Dad jumped toward the door, trying to break it down.
Ashley sneered and threw the key into the gutter.
I heard Mom call 911. Under these circumstances, we couldn’t wait for the firefighters to arrive.
I ran to the bathroom, took the towel off the sink, quickly soaked it in water, and then ran out before the fire could reach the bathroom.
Mom and I covered our mouths and noses with wet towels and followed Dad to the basement.
But the small door to the basement was in the kitchen. Although the fire hadn’t spread to the kitchen yet, we couldn’t be sure when it would.
The kitchen had a lot of flammable and explosive items.
The windows had security bars.
The thick black smoke went through our towels.
Before I passed out, Mom and Dad hugged me, using their bodies to block the flames.
Tears welled up in my eyes.
Were we… going to die again?
The smell of antiseptic replaced the smoke and when 14
