Know thyself? If I knew myself I'd run away.

- Goethe

The next morning Leah lay in bed, traces of burnt toast filling her nostrils. She could hear Brenton and Alice in the kitchen, working around each other quietly. It had always been that way with her adopted parents; they hovered in an unsteady silence — a hush loaded with tension.

She presumed it'd been different sixteen years ago, before Leah's parents had skipped town and left her on their doorstep. Maybe Brenton didn't drink back then. Either way, Leah made the music these days. Laughter and warm voices with Alice, yells and crashes with Brenton.

She glanced at her desk where last night's clothes hung, the petrol-splattered jacket glaring at her accusingly. She'd have to throw it out now. After what she'd seen she couldn't leave any evidence lying around.

The image still sat on the back of her eyelids, flashing across her vision every time she blinked: the silhouette surrounded by flames, the grotesque parody of a wave. She'd lain in bed all night trying to fight the panic it fed. Whoever that silhouette was, they'd been inside the school, and if they'd recognised her, she was screwed.

A soft knock broke Leah from her thoughts and she sat up. "Come in."

Leah had expected Alice at the door, but found Zarah there instead.

She glanced at the fluorescent 8:30am on her bedside table and then eyed her classmate curiously. "Isn't it a little early for you?"

"Usually," Zarah said, walking in and perching on the corner of the bed. Her gaze moved to the clothes hanging over Leah's desk and narrowed.

The shadows under Zarah's eyes were dark, her mouth set firm, and Leah had a sinking feeling this wasn't a casual visit.

From the day they'd met in pre-school, Leah had practiced reading Zarah's facial expressions. Zarah had been that persistent kid who'd decided, for no obvious reason, to befriend the outcasts.

Her first few attempts at talking to Leah had been met with a barrage of acorns, but after a week of acorn harassment, Leah had become more intrigued than annoyed by her classmate. Somewhere between then and the next year, Leah started having tantrums the days Zarah didn't come.

"Is everything okay?" Leah asked.

Zarah turned to her, dark eyes critical. "Did you set the school on fire last night?"

Leah blinked. "There was a fire at the school?"

"You know there was. You lit it."

Leah shifted off the bed and moved to perch on her desk. She was about to deny it when Zarah caught her eye. Her gaze wasn't questioning, not even curious. It left no room for denial at all. Leah sighed. Zarah was always the hardest to lie to.

"You figured that out quickly."

Zarah groaned. "My God, Leah. Why?"

Leah shrugged with a well-practiced indifference, trying to gauge how angry her friend was. Neither of Zarah's eyes were twitching yet, so Leah figured she was safe for now.

"I don't know. Arelie wanted to."

"Arelie's a psychopath! You're going to be sent to jail if they figure out it was you."

Leah realised she'd been tapping her fingers against the table and pulled her hands away. "I know that."

"What —" Zarah sputtered, her glare fierce. "Well, why the hell did you do it then? We're only a term away from graduation, you're getting out of there soon anyway."

"Does it really matter why? It's done."

Anger flashed in Zarah's eyes and Leah felt a stab of regret. Every time she acted up, Zarah hammered her with questions, and it was always the same diversions and excuses that slipped from Leah's mouth. She was tired of their taste.

"Of course, it matters," Zarah yelled and Leah glanced at the bedroom door nervously.

"You could have burnt down the school! It could've spread to the houses." Zarah's words were even louder now, jumbled together. "If it wasn't for that call alerting the fire station, it probably would've."

"If it makes you feel better," Leah interrupted, "I was the one who made the call."

That stopped whatever speech Zarah was about to make and Leah stared determinedly out the window, refusing to meet her gaze. She knew she sounded crazy, knew that none of this made sense.

"Why did you do it, Leah?" Zarah asked. "Seriously, tell me the truth."

Leah bit down on her lip, not easing until she could taste blood. "I did it because I had to."

Zarah looked at her. "You had to?"

Leah glanced away. There were too many things she could never tell Zarah, things she didn't even understand herself. I run on a different wavelength, she wanted to say.

"I just... I'm wrong here," Leah said lamely.

Zarah raised a questioning eyebrow. "You decided to set the town alight because you feel wrong?"

"Yes! I mean, no, not really." Leah trailed off, biting down on her lip.

Zarah's disappointment and anger were stealing her words before they even formed.

"Are you going to tell anyone?" Leah asked quietly.

Zarah let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through her hair. "You know I won't."

After a moment of silence, Zarah stood.

"You should come to Roy's Pub tonight," she said, her voice tense. "Everyone's going because school's been cancelled tomorrow. It'd be weird if you didn't show."

Leah nodded and Zarah's features softened slightly; not with forgiveness, but with tolerance. It was the look of someone who knew they were being lied to, but were willing to stick around for when the truth finally slipped out.

It wasn't going to.

"I'll meet you there at seven," Zarah said.

"Yeah, sure."

When Zarah left, Leah felt her whole body exhale. She slumped into her computer chair, ignoring the greasy jacket against her back, and slid her desk draw open, eyeing the USBs inside. There were 47. She'd counted last night. The footage was surely on one of them, but she didn't have time to check.

Leah pulled on her swimmers and stuffed her backpack with the ruined clothes and USBs. Then, she climbed out the window and scaled down the tree outside, unwilling to use the stairs and risk a run in with Brenton.

With a quick glance to ensure neither of her adopted parents were looking out the kitchen window, Leah crept across the lawn and made her way to the beach. She needed solitude and space, and most importantly, a place to dump shit she didn't want found. Luckily, there were few places in Narra so deserted.

Leah had heard all the ghost stories, the tales of whirlpools just past the horizon that led to another world; a world of heat and fire, and infinite pain. Even though the myths were dismissed from the safety of land, few ventured near the beach. Which suited Leah just fine.

Leah darted across the road and took the bush track, her backpack bumping against her shoulders. Eucalyptus leaves crunched under her feet as she made her way down the slope and onto the beach.

She dumped her bag by the shore and grabbed a handful of USBs before wadding into a rip and letting it pull her straight out into the ocean. The water was cool as it dragged her beyond the breakers and into calmer, deeper water. Only once the rip ebbed, did she drop her handful. She ducked her head under and watched the USBs fall through the water column, floating away like confetti.

There was something oddly beautiful about the sight, and Leah hurried ashore to repeat the process. After three more trips, her bag was empty, and for the first time since she'd seen that silhouette, she felt slightly hopeful.

...

"Alice?" Leah called, shutting the front door and wiping sand onto the welcome mat. Sarah Blasko was playing from the front room and the smell of roast pumpkin wafted through the house.

"In here, honey."

The voice came from the kitchen.

Leah made her way there, stomach growling in anticipation. She turned the corner and found Alice at the counter, kneading dough as freshly cooked pumpkin soup boiled on the stove. Her brown hair was in a bun, loose strands dangling around her face.

"Smells good," Leah said, grabbing a spoon and dipping it into the soup before Alice could protest.

Alice gave her a stern look, but turned away to keep kneading.

"Where did you go this morning?"

Leah jumped up onto the counter and sipped her small portion. "I just went for a swim. I'm going out tonight too, by the way. Everyone's going to the Pub."

"Has everyone forgotten they have school tomorrow morning?" Alice asked.

"I don't think schools going to be on," Leah said, her tone casual. "Zarah said there was a fire."

Alice's head jerked up. "What? A bad one?"

"I don't know. She just told me it's been cancelled and everyone's going out to celebrate."

Alice's brow had creased in concern. "That's hardly something to celebrate."

Leah snorted. "Speak for yourself."

Alice stopped kneading and turned to Leah, a floury hand poised on her hip. "I suppose asking you not to drink tonight would be a wasted effort?"

"Most definitely."

Alice sighed. "Be careful, please. You know how I feel about it. If you lost control —"

"Alice?" Brenton's voice cut her off, travelling towards them from deeper in the house.

"I'm in the kitchen!"

Leah hopped off the counter quickly and gave Alice a peck on the cheek. "That's my cue to leave."

Alice looked slightly distressed. "You don't have to go, you know you can stay."

Leah shrugged. "But it's easier if I don't. We both know it."

"But –"

"See you later, Alice," Leah called, already out the door.