Everywhere is Fire

I my finger grazed the trigger, wondering what would happen if I pulled it.
All of the sudden, James barged in the room, like an angry bull. 
“What are you doing?!” James snatched the gun, and stared at Rikki. Then, he looked to me. “Did you do this?”
I stared at him like he was psycho (he kind of is, that said). “No,” a tear escaped my eye. “She did this herself.”
“Whatever! Come on!”
He pulled me back into the truck, and they began to drive. I was crying the whole time. My eyes filled with tears, my heard raced. My mind was so out there.
When I thought of Rikki, I thought: Her Body. “James! Dan!” I said. My lip was quivering.
“What?” James growled.
“You left Rikki’s body! She--she needs a proper burial, she--”
“Are you the dumbest hostage ever? Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen. She’s going to stay and rot.”
Tears exploded from my eyes. I said Rikki’s name so many times. My eyes hurt, my legs hurt. Everything hurt!
The drive continued. I thought about Rikki. I never thought that the last glimpse of her perfect curls bounce as she went into the bathroom would be the last time I saw her. In fact, I was kind of happy that we had a plan.
What if that happens to me too? What if I just--don’t want to live anymore? The thoughts swirled around in my head like a wildfire.
What if I don’t escape?
The thought made me shiver.
“James.” I said softly.
“What is it now? I’m tired of hearing your complaints, god I’ll just beat the--”
“James, if police investigate, then they’ll find Rikki. Who is missing. Then, they’ll know. They’ll be on your trail.”
His face got pale. Him and Dan talked silently.
The thing I hoped for the most was for them to find Rikki’s body. For them to give it to her mother--for a proper burial.
Rikki deserved it.
Still, I wondered.
How can I get out of this?
I wanted to go back to my house, my warm soft bed. I wanted to feel my mom’s kiss on my cheek at night. I wanted home.
The more I dreamed about my arrival, the more motivation I got to break free. To escape.
I didn’t want to end up like Rikki. Rikki loved her life--she was popular, had lots of friends, good grades, went to tons of parties--even had a pool in her backyard. She said that she never wanted her life to end.
Not now, though.
That had changed for Rikki. And me.
If I turn out like Rikki, then that proves I’m not strong enough to take this. I need to be strong.
I don’t care that I’m 12. I don’t. I need to fight. I need to escape.
No matter what, life is more important than it seems. The feelings of laugh, the excitement of going into a new grade, the smell of delicious food.
It was all worth something.
And I must bring that back to my life.