The Psychic Twenty
Updated: 5/30/2020
The Psychic Twenty
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Chapter 1: Haily “Where’s Tom?” I asked as I frantically searched for my twin brother in the blazing fire. What was supposed to be my hazel hair was as gray as ash. That made sense, ‘cause I was walking in ash. My whole body was covered with it. “I…,” said Mom. “I don’t know.” Her blonde hair was dusty as she pushed things around, trying to escape. I saw her pick up a now broken chair and bash it at something. That something didn’t budge, but Tom was missing, and I think I’M the one who Mom’s gonna send on a rescue mission. “TOM!!” I called. “TOM!!” I coughed up some ash. And dust. Don’t forget the dust. We heard Dad scream. Mom and I rushed over there. He was hurt. His leg was bending the opposite way it was supposed to and his hands were covering his knee, which was bloody. Mom gripped his hand and helped him up. “Go, Haily,” she said in a hoarse voice. “Go find Tom.” She led Dad out of the fire. I looked around. The fire was blazing around me like shiny rubies, evil shiny rubies trying to destroy me and my family. Now, you are probably thinking, Why don’t you just call the FIRE DEPARTMENT? Well, we did, and you won’t believe our luck. All the firefighters in San Francisco were fighting different fires. I walked through the burning house, trying to avoid the mini-fires that were in the huge fire. I almost stepped in a mini-fire when I got distracted and saw hair. Ash-covered hair with dark hazel streaks. How could Tom in the fire save me from the mini-fire you ask? Well, I was just peering at him and making sure it was Tom when I felt the warmth of the mini-fire. I jumped back and decided to figure out if the person was Tom the easy way. “Tom?” I pulled up my 12-year-old brother. “Haily.” he said in a weak voice. Then, I realized he was with Goldie, our Golden Retriever. Covered in dirt, dust, and ash, she looked like a (very dirty) Chocolate Lab. “She. Can’t. Die.” Tom said. “But she did.” Then, to my horror, he tried to run towards her and collapsed. I looked at Goldie. She wasn’t moving. Goldie WAS dead. “Oh no.” I said quietly to myself. I heaved an unconscious Tom over my back while holding a dead Goldie in my shaking, ash-covered, hands. “Why is this so close to my birthday?!” I said to myself as I headed towards what looked like the only place that wasn’t my burning house. My 13th birthday was just next month! (and also Tom’s because of the whole twin thing). Soon, I reached a place where I could climb out with Tom and Goldie. I heard sirens beeping. Mom was helping Dad into an ambulance. I knew Mom didn’t know about Goldie dying, so I didn’t say anything. “We’ll drive your dog to the vet,” said the nurse who was in the ambulance. She had seen a dead, dirty Goldie in my arms. “Thank you.” said Mom. She was fine, but she’d lost her glasses. She was feeling around. Mom is as blind as a bat without her glasses. I was helping Mom in the ambulance when I saw a jet-black car that looked like a limo. A plump, mysterious looking woman dressed in a black robe with VERY pale skin stepped out and peered at me, and her eyes were relaxing. I almost wanted to go towards her when I thought I heard her mumble. And then I saw something that HAD to be my imagination. The woman’s hand GLOWED all red black and white. I thought that, maybe, I was seeing things because I had ash, dirt, dust, and debris in my eyes. But I couldn’t figure it out because that’s when I heard a loud crack. I looked up to see the balcony crashing down and a monstrous clang. The last thing I saw was Mom’s horrorstuck face and the ruins of my house in San Francisco... And then everything went black...

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