Fighting To Be Free

The flames could be seen from miles away.  The shadowy figure stood off to the side, a couple of yards away, and he watched with gloating satisfaction as the fire engulfed the once fabulous mansion.  The figure was confident that there would be no witnesses - nothing that could identify him.  He was safe.

Flicking away the rest of the cigarette he had been smoking, he began backing away as the piercing sounds of the sirens began getting louder and closer.  With one last glance at the fiery inferno, he turned his back and melted in with the shadows of the dark night.

Leaving when he did, he didn't see one of the windows break in the second storey of the house.  Nor did he see the young boy throw himself backwards out of it, clutching a small girl to his chest, making sure that his body broke the fall for his sister.

Amazed that his back didn't break from the impact of the fall, the boy painfully managed to drag himself and his sister away from the fiery hell that had almost claimed their lives.  Collapsing a few metres from their burning home, the boy's head turned around as the emergency services came barrelling up the drive.

As the firemen raced around them desperately trying to put out the blaze, a medical officer approached the two children, her heart breaking at the sight of the tear-streaked faces staring back at her.  It was an image that, she knew, would stay with her for life.  Crouching down, she wrapped a thermal blanket around their shoulders as she tried to reassure them that everything would be okay.

Twisting his head, the boy looked back as his home crumbled before his eyes.  He knew with certainty that his mother and father hadn't made it out.  He and his sister had just become orphans.

Okay, he thought as the shock began to settle firmly in.  Nothing would ever be okay again.