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asked, my voice edging on impatience. My pulse quickened as the seconds passed. I slightly bent my knees and raised my left hand, ready for an attack.
    When nothing happened, I sighed and did my best to act as if I had dropped my guard. I was halfway to the house and still nothing had happened. Assuming whatever was teasing me was just teasing me, I shook my head. Then I saw it, just barely saw it. A little flicker of fire reflected in the side mirror of the truck.
    I spun around, dropping to the ground just in time for the Burning Man to reach a fiery arm out at me. He was only feet away and my ass was on the damp grass; I was a sitting duck. Trying to remember the defense moves Ethan had taught me, I flung myself back onto my feet and stepped away. Even if I could remember self defense, I didn’t want to touch someone that was on fire.
    I threw my left hand out to telekinetically throw the Burning Man to the ground. Then I’d…I’d get the hose and put out the fire? I couldn’t think that far ahead. I felt my heart thumping in my chest and could hear the air loudly rushing in and out of my lungs. The energy left my hand but had no effect on the Burning Man.
    He took another step at me, glowing embers and chunks of charred skin falling to the earth with each jerky movement. I took a step back and madly tried to think of something.
    Stab him.
    It was my only choice. I tightened my grip on the dagger and prepared to launch forward, sinking the blade into his blackened chest. But what if it didn’t work? The dagger sets its victims on fire, and he was already on fire? Nervous sweat dripped down my back.
    I had no other choice. I wasn’t going to die, not tonight, not by this…this thing. I couldn’t think anymore. I just had to do it. I sprang up and extended my hand. The dagger was pointed right at his chest. The tip had just broken through his sternum when he disappeared. I felt as if I was airborne for minutes. Then I hit the ground rolling; my elbow caught on an uneven patch in the yard, making my fall a jumbled mess of pain.
    I didn’t feel it right away; the wind had been knocked out of me and all I could think about was not being able to breathe. I wasn’t sure what hit me first; the incredible pain or the warmth of my blood soaking through my shirt. Horrified fear made my cry out.   Eyes wide with shock, I looked down and saw that the dagger had sliced open my stomach.

     

     

     
    Chapter 3- The Memory Remains
     

    Tears pooled in my eyes. The pain was overwhelming. I was terrified to move my hand and see the damage. I sat, frozen in hurt and fear, for a few seconds. There was no way around this. I had seen too many movies to know that a direct slice through several layers of my stomach didn’t end well.
    My thoughts flashed to Ethan; to him coming home and finding me dead in the yard. I wondered if I’d be cold and stiff or if rotting would have already set in. Would it be too early for maggots to be crawling on my face?
    Stop it , I scolded myself. I wasn’t going to die. It took enormous effort to move the handle of the dagger. Slippery, it fell from my hands, staining the dead grass with blood. I gasped, unable to breath and pressed my hands over the cut. I explored the wound with my fingers. It wasn’t very deep; it only cut through my skin and maybe just into my muscle. Still, the blood gushed out at an alarming rate.
    It was pointless , I thought feebly. Maybe I shouldn’t even try and stop the bleeding. It would only prolong my suffering. Pain clashed with fear and I wanted to sob. I couldn’t; my weak physical body couldn’t handle crying and bleeding to death at the same time.
    Then I began to feel warm. Oh, God, this is it , I thought. I’m dying . But the warmth never spread. It stayed deep inside the wound, radiating out. The pain faded. Too scared to move, I lay motionless in the grass.
    “Am I a ghost?” I asked no one when the warmth was gone. The pain wasn’t there anymore