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Intense orange flames ripped through the air around me. All I could hear was the heavy roaring of the fire, and all I could feel was the unbearable heat, and the looming sense that I was going to die.
"Help!" I yelled for the thousandth time, although I could hardly even hear it myself. "Help me!" I repeatedly punched the only wall that wasn't alight, as if it would do any help for me.
I hate to admit it, but I was crying like a little girl. Salty tears rained down my cheeks.
I'm going to die. This is it. I'm actually going to die.
The flames continued to edge towards me, the structure around me was crumbling and sinking among the hungry inferno. It drew all the oxygen from the air and replaced it with thick smoke. Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult.
"Help!"
I heard footsteps in a room close by. I prayed that it was my mother or father, running and escaping from the firestorm.
I decided I should man up. If I was going to die, I wouldn't do it like a coward. I brushed the tears from my face, and tried to stop crying. My desperately weak, shaking breaths rattled in my polluted lungs.
I'm not afraid.
I heard footsteps again. I realised they must be really close, if I could hear them above the screaming fire that coated my ears like I was underwater.
"Help!"
My throat was sore from yelling. There was no point in shouting, though. I was already doomed.
The fire came closer still, gradually starting to caress my shoes. I backed further against the wall.
Suddenly, there was a massive crash, and a gaping hole appeared in the wall, near to me. I whipped my head around, momentarily distracted from the devouring conflagration in front of me. I thought maybe it was another bomb or something.
My eyes widened with shock as a figure appeared behind the flames. The dark silhouette of a man.
"Help!" I cried desperatly, into the flames. The man was wearing a gas mask. He turned towards me.
I could hardly breathe. My vision blurred, and darkened around the edges.
"Help!"
Another piece of the ceiling dropped into the fire, the orange embers tall and threatening.
The man was suddenly running through the flames. Any hint of fear under that gas mask was definitley not evident.
I gaped. He was running in fire. He was probably on fire. He was carrying a huge axe.
He finally reached me. Before I could say anything he threw the axe into the wall beside me. I jumped, startled, and shrieked as the flames scathed my arm. We only had a few seconds left before we would both be engulfed in flames. His clothes were also noticably alight. He didn't seem to care about any of this.
I realised I hadn't really been breathing for about 30 seconds. My lungs were gasping for air, but there was none available. My vision was almost entirely black.
Then I curled onto the floor, unconcious.
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