Reborn to Burn Your Lies

The basement was covered in mold. I lay there in the pitch-black darkness, waiting for death.

Twenty years.

Ever since that catastrophic chemistry lab fire twenty years ago, I had never seen the sunlight.

The harsh screech of my AP Chemistry teacher, Brenda Vance, still echoed in my ears: "Summer Lin! You forgot to turn off the burner! You blew up the lab, disfigured your classmates, and burned down the entire science building!"

To pay for my "crime," my parents sold our house, begged on their knees, and died early from sheer exhaustion and stress.