It was dark, sky heavy with smoke blocking any light from the stars and getting stuck in my throat burning and stinging, tears trickling down the cheeks of my little sister, her squeezing my hand so tight I felt as though it would break, she stared at the roaring flames immature eyes wide with horror as the red beast swallowed up the only home she has ever known. the wind was cold against my back but my face was so hot I felt as if I would melt. I knew I should look away but I was sentimental, thinking of all the happy memories we've all had here, the childlike laughter that always seemed to fill the air, the laid-back afternoons, the gentle conversations, the secure feeling of being tucked in at night, it all just seems so innocent now, to innocent to be taken away, not yet. what monster of nature would be so bold to take away such fond memories, and I stare, still, unmoving, watching the fire licking at the walls of my home. I see my long white curtains fall, and a sob escapes my lips. I watch, and the roses I planted when I was only five bursts
and I cover my mouth, and I watch, and the little vine trellis on the porch collapses. I fall to my knees, and I watch, and the roof folds in on itself, and I pull my sister into my lap holding her tight. I watch the fire burn away the memories, and a large strong hand on my shoulder, "It's ok, we're going to be okay." my father's deep gentle voice reaches my ears. Another smaller softer hand on my other shoulder and my mom's sweet gentle voice swept over us, "We can start again, new memories new adventures." And we stayed there, holding each other, even as the rain started to fall even as the last spark burned out even as the first rays of the sun shone down onto the earth. We stayed there, and we watched, and we cried, and we held each other, and we stayed.
