(Title: Evacuation
Summary of this post: If a spark had not been put out, the rapidly growing fire would threaten and challenge many lives. Among these lives stand out the lives of two kids. Parallel stories- would Andy (Toy Story) or Mary (Monsters, Inc) dare leave behind what matters to them the most?)
Summary Overall: What happens when Pixar characters find themselves in a dangerous evacuation situation? Would they dare leave behind what really matters to them, or risk their lives for their prized possessions? (parrallel stories)
Some inspiration came from seeing Coral risk her life for her precious children, and Remy risk his life for his beloved cookbook.
Please comment, thank you 
Mary
[i]I am drawing more and more pictures. I don’t know how it comes it me, it just does. I just think of something and draw it out. I can even draw with my eyes closed. According to lots of grown-ups, I am really imaginative when it comes to mythical creatures. Truth is, actually, that I didn’t exactly make them up. At bedtime, I grab a flashlight and my favorite toy, and go into the closet. I study textbooks from Monstropolis. They were real photographs. But I don’t need to copy them. I draw what I feel. I draw what I remember. I draw what I dream.
But why is it so warm in here? What is that burning smell? Suddenly, I hear the shrill, ear-piercing screaming of the smoke detector. I want to shout “Make it stop!” but I hurt my voice. It shoots through the limit of my hearing. It gets warmer and warmer- a murderous warmer. In no time, I see the smoke that emerges from out of nowhere. The house is surrounded by the deathly smoke. The smoke finds a way in the house. It hurts my eyes and my nose. I start to sweat. I start to choke. I start to cough.
Then I see something even scarier. Flames. Red hot, fiery orange, evil fire everywhere. The walls are melting in it. The house is falling in it. I can’t breathe. I am trapped. I am stuck.
I hear my family crying and yelling for me. The floor catches on fire. It spreads quickly. My drawings…my precious drawings…they become victim of the fire. My art set burns away. My bed is not safe. The walls are crumbling, the ceiling falling, the floor crackling- I feel it.
I am going to die, I know it. I drop my flashlight and hug my stuffed animal close. I try not to panic. But it looks so scary. I scream until I have no voice.
I hear people screaming. I hear sirens outside. Oh, no, not them. They will make me leave. I can’t leave it, even if it kills me. I won’t leave it, I won’t live on without it.
Hurry, before the door is on fire, too. I hide myself in the closet. The only thing I have left. I close the door and squeeze the handle tight. I breathe heavily, afraid each time that it’s the last breath I will take.
I want to scream, but my voice can’t. I scream in my head. The fire makes the door thinner and thinner. Please don’t let it be too late. If it’s the last thing I do. Please, I pray. This is my last hope. I believe.
Anyone else would have told me to get away and stay somewhere else. But I can’t stay and watch in horror as it burns. If this door shall burn, let me burn with it. That’s how much I love it. It’s more than just a door. It’s a whole new world to me.
I have friends there, friends that can make everything better.
But no one else understands. No one else sees that I’m not going anywhere. Not a chance. Not me. Not now. Not ever.[/i]
Andy
[i] I am in my room, drawing random pictures. My toys are on my desk, in the box, on my bed, under my bed, and on my shelf. Actually, they’re everywhere in my room, but I know exactly where everyone is. We have just finished reenacting a scene from a movie. I am drawing pictures, and rewriting the scene. I am remixing it, editing it, changing it so it’s more original. The toys are sitting there, smiling at me.
Sometimes I could almost swear that they winked at me, or said something when I’m not looking. But I think I just have a overworking imagination. Still, it’s good to know that I can talk to them about anything, and they won’t make fun of me for it. Right now I am thinking about changing Bo Peep’s role. She might get annoyed that she’s always the damsel in distress.
While I think about Bo Peep’s new character, suddenly I smell something burning. At first, I think it’s just somebody cooking, but I sniff again. It smells serious. Like smoke. Smoke leading to flames of fire.
Oh, no! I panick in my head. It sure feels hot. I am sweating even though I am barely moving. I can smell it, feel it, sense it. I know the terrible truth- there is fire.
I drop my art set and paper, and make a dash for it, knocking over a chair. I trip, but get up and keep moving anyway. Obviously, the smoke detector isn’t working. But if people could read my mind, they’d hear screaming from inside me louder than a siren.
Molly, Buster, and my mom are not at home. I have to get out myself. I have to rescue myself.
I gasp for air, but the air is not clear and clean. My nose fills with that horrible odor of smoke. I want to get out, I want to escape before the fire gets to me. But I am panicking so much that I don’t know what to do. All those lessons and warnings I learned about what to do in a situation like this- they’ve left my mind blank.
I hear the roaring sirens of a fire engine. But I still have to make it known that I am in here. “Help!” I cry, and feel my throat burning. I feel myself getting really hot; I feel myself suffering from the worry and the heat.
I want to run. I want to escape. I want to go back to this morning, when everything was normal. I want to rewind time and make sure I got out of the house before this happened.
But wait, my toys! My beloved, many toys! I know, anyone would just tell me to forget it- it isn’t worth risking my life for them. That’s probably true, but I don’t know if I could live without them. Most of them had been with me since forever, and losing them would feel painful. Some people would say it’s silly. They would try and satisfy me by getting me new ones. But they would never replace my own toys right here- they have something important about them that I cannot explain.
I cannot take it, and feel myself getting light-headed. I fall, and everything goes black. I know I am going to die, and all for those toys. The last sight I see is my collection of toys. After a blink or so, they’ve disappeared, but I think it’s only because of me dying.
I cannot believe it. I’ve survived! I am alive! But how? Nobody says they know. People start shooting me questions. I say, “I don’t know,” to almost everything. Who saved me? I sigh and feel heartbroken again, because my toys aren’t with me. They were like a part of me. But then, I cannot believe the miracle! They’re with me! They’re all with me!
But how? How come the toys disappeared from my sight in my room? How did I get out of the house? Who saved me? And how did my toys manage to make it with me? These questions still haunt me, but I don’t care. I’m just so glad that I survived, and was spared the gloom and doom of my precious posessions being lost for eternity. I am so relieved, I cry tears of joy. [/i]
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it. Your comments will mean a lot to me, so once again, please comment!
ill read it tomorrow!!!