The air was hot when I stepped out into the daylight. It was so hot that it took me a few tries of opening the door, closing it, then opening it again, to finally summon the willpower to leave the house. It was the peak of the flare and the heat was thick on my skin, like a blanket that had been soaked in boiling water. Too warm, too hot, too dense.
On the fourth try, I took a deep breath, and quickly stepped outside. I checked that I had all my gear - that I had spent the previous day gathering - before shutting the door behind me. I’d made sure that my parents were preoccupied in the basement before leaving. Even opening the door during a flare was insanity, but if they had seen their daughter trying to walk out into the impossible heat, they would have thought I was try... Please subscribe to keep reading.
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