Bright, red colored, high and warm flames everywhere. There were firefighters all around the house, trying to extinguish the flames. But they failed everytime they tried. Though, they wouldn't stop. The wooden door was burned down and the stone walls of our beautiful home were black and broken, instead of brown colored.
My dad was sitting on the streets, calling with people and crying. He was paniced. Agents tried to comfort him, neighbours were standing around us, shocked and concerned. I heard some voices, screaming the same sentence over and over again.
‘‘She's still in there!’’
I saw firefighters running inside. I stared at my dad, asked him how long this fire has been burning our house down till now. He answered around twenty minutes. When I asked him where my mother was, he froze and cried again. My world stopped turning. It was a summer day, July 13th. A Friday. I didn't think. I just turned around to the house and stared at the window. Mum's room.
The next view seconds, there were screams of shock again. There were hands that tried to pull me back, but I dodged them all. I ran through the firefithers, ignored my dad cries of pure anxiety. I just ran inside.
There was fire everywhere. I felt the terrible heat, was scared. But I kept on. I started running upstairs, but the stairs were almost totally burned down. Wood started to cut into my feet and legs as I hobbled upstairs. I tried not to inhale the smoke of the fire, but when I did, I had to cough.
Once I was upstairs, I stopped doing anything. I smelled a horrible scent. It came from my mum's room. I felt anxious, unable to take a step further. But I had to. For my feeling, I had to go in. While I stood there, I heard voices outside and a few inside. I heard people calling my name, but didn't reply. Instead, I started walking slowly, to my mum's room. The scent became worse and I had to cover my nose. But when I did, I had to inhale the smoke and started to cough more than I already did.
It was a mess. Drawers were on the floor, so were burned clothes and pieces of broken glass where everywhere. Mum's bed was the only thing that wasn't burned off. It was black, and it looked like it could almost break down. I smelled the scent again and then, I heard a soft call for help. I stopped looking and ran to the desk in the room. Underneath it was a space. When I was a little kid, I played hide and seek with dad and hid there.
The calls for help became a little bit louder. Still, there were voices downstairs, calling for me. I crouched and froze again when I crept over the floor to the desk. Hot tears were flowing down my cheeks, evaporated by the heat of the flames. The flames had burned my clothes from one side. I saw a small woman, leaning with her head against the desk. Crying but smiling sadly. Slowly, her hand reached out to me. I tried to get it, but then felt a sharp and extremely warm pain on my hand. I screamed loud and looked at my hand. All I saw was black, and I smelled the scent of burned flesh. I looked away and heard noises.
Footsteps running upstairs. I tried to crouch further to the desk and froze almost immediately when I heard a soft cry. It sounded so helpless and hopeless. I saw her, smiling sad. She opened her mouth to say something, but then let down one more tear, before her hand, the hand she reached out to me, stopped reaching and felt liveless on the floor. I cried louder and felt hands around me. I kicked, cried, screamed. I felt people pulling me backwards the room, away from the now liveless person.
Outside, my dad ran to me and held me tight. Once he put me down, I felt dizzy, started to cough loudly and I saw black dots in my sight. People stood around my dad and me, I felt like I had no space to breath and dropped myself on the ground. Everything became more black and black, things started to fuzz around and i felt a hard blow before blackness took over.
I was twelve years old. I was at school when dad called my teacher, paniced. I had to come home immediately. Once I came there, he told me that a fire was created. Dad was at work, I was at school. The only person who was home, was mum. Dad said he was called by the neighbours, who noticed the fire from behind. No one knew how it was created. They only knew it wasn't an accident. SOMEONE created that fire to... do this to us. Maybe only to mum, or to all of us. I didn't know. All I knew, was that if I'd be earlier, I could've saved her. I saw her dying in my eyes. And I could've prevent it.
I'd never forgive myself.
