James woke in his bed to the sound of banging. It was fast, vigorous banging working towards frantic. Rolling over, James rubbed his eyes. They hurt. Sore from the thickness of the air around. The air was dense, hard to breathe. It was barely air, it was smoke.
Coming around, James remembered the words repeated to him since childhood. 'Get down low!' He rolled off his bed onto the carpeted floor below, knocking his knee hard against his size 12 sneakers. His knee, scarcely a distraction as smoke was stuffing the room like liquid filling upside down.
Despite the moonless night outside, James had little trouble navigating the floor. A baleful flickering cast shadows beneath the bedroom door. Crabbing over, James reached out to the door with the back of his hand. It was hot. James was despondent. A hot door meant he needed another way out, fast! James was running out of options.
He was quickly reminded how much his eyes hurt. Tempestuously blinking, James made his was back slowly across to room to where he started. Thinking about his window, James wondered how hard it would be to smash it. Would his desk chair do? He had to try. Finding a strength in urgency, James stood up. The air wasn't there. His breathing became coughing, quickly turning to gasping. Finally James couldn't lift the chair, much less smash anything with it. Dejected, James fell to his bed.
James relaxed as he forgot about his pain. He couldn't feel any aching in his knee. His lungs stopped crushing him. All he could think about was how weary he had become. Focused on the dancing lights under the door, James could no longer fight his drowsy eyes. Slowly they fell till finally, like a helpless toddler, James was asleep.
