I lifted the screen on my old, worn Mac laptop up and opened the Pages program. I then typed in a summary of my story, which was about a woman who was around my age, which is twenty, who finds herself... that's as far as I got before I logged into my roommate's Netflix account.

I selected the Supernatural pilot. Just to let you know, my favorite TV show is Supernatural. I was around seven when the show premiered, but I began watching it when I was 13. I was able to catch up on five seasons before the sixth season premiered and from then on I was hooked.

With every episode, I felt like I was drawn into the world of the Winchester brothers, which did help considering my home life. I'm not going to into details now, but I might feel more open to discuss it in the future.

In case you want to know, the Winchester brother I prefer is Sam, although I do like Dean and I can understand his appeal. But, I just find myself attracted more to sensible guys... and taller guys, even though I am quite short. My roommate, Jodi, joked that if they make a live-action Peter Pan and they cast me as Tinkerbell, they wouldn't need me to film my scenes in front of a blue screen.

I picked the lightweight Mac off of my pine desk and carried it to my bed. I settled onto the bed under my heavy, purple bedspread. During Jessica's death scene, which always upset me, Jodi sauntered in while carrying the spiral notebooks filled with her notes, startling me. She stared at me with a knowing smirk. "Watching the pilot again?" she asked. I nodded meekly before a grin began to form slowly across my face and we both burst into laughter. "Move over!" she cried in excitement. I scooted over so she would have some room to watch with me.

About halfway into Wendigo, I thought I began to smell smoke, but I brushed it off, considering that Emory College usually has very... unusual smells. But, my renewed feeling of calm lasted for only a few seconds when I heard someone scream out, "Fire."

I threw my computer down (who cares, I can get another one with the job I have) and I grabbed Jodi by the wrist as we jolted out of our dorm room. We were met with bright orange flames that seemed to dance menacingly around us. I saw the other students run around in panic, praying to whatever deities they worship (or science, if they were atheists. A lot of prayers to science here).

"Out of my way!" a male student cried as he pushed Jodi to the ground. Jodi cried out in pain, lifting her arm from the flames. I saw what I thought were second degree burns on her fore arm and a third degree burn on her bicep. She began crying like a helpless newborn baby. I lifted her up by her unhurt arm and I found a staffer to take her outside.

The flames began to corner me by a window in the hallway. My heart was almost beating out of my chest and my kneecaps were shaking. I leaned against the window, waiting for the worst to be over. But, I leaned too hard and noticed the window was open, but it was too late. I felt myself fall through what should be the pitch black before the flames seemed to fade away before my eyes.