One Shots

Fired Up/Burnt Out

A/N: Inspired by a true story. I was up last night after midnight thinking of events that occurred some years ago at this point and decided to write a one shot about it. Liberties were taken, but the basic premise is pretty real. (All characters and names used are fictitious.)

I woke up to someone yelling and something shattering. Both sounded like they came from outside. I looked out of my window to the right and saw my neighbor looking frantic. I shifted my gaze to the other side and saw way more light than there should be at this time of the night.

My neighbor's house was on fire. That must've been where the shatter came from—pressure building up and blowing out the windows.

I stepped away from the window to get my phone. I dialed 911, unsure if my neighbor did so in his panic.

When they answered, I explained the situation in a shaky voice and rattled off the address when asked. They assured me that firemen would be here shortly.

I did what I should've done immediately and grabbed my most important possessions to bring them downstairs. I could only hope the fire didn't spread to any other houses, especially my own.

Once downstairs, I convened with my parents. I let them know that the fire department was on its way, and they breathed out small sighs of relief.

We put shoes and jackets on and went outside on our porch to get a full view of the fire that was only getting worse. Thankfully, it wasn't a windy night. Right now, it seemed contained to the one house. And, since it was the middle of winter, the air wasn't humid.

While we stood watching the house burn, our neighbors on the other side came over to talk about it. Maybe sticking close to one another would serve as a bit of a comfort.

Not too much more time passed before the fire truck arrived. They clearly saw which house needed to be taken care of and immediately got to work.

As far as we know, no one came out of the house when the fire started. Either no one was home, or they couldn't get out in time. I hoped and prayed that it was the former.

The firemen got the hose unraveled and started spraying water on the house. It felt like such a small amount of water for the size of the growing flames.

Eventually, we all made it down our driveways to the sidewalk. The view of the house wasn't obstructed by the awning above our porch here.

It didn't seem like the fire would spread to neighboring houses, but there were plenty of embers and ashes falling into our yards, driveways, and roofs.

A lot was going on at once, but at the same time, it felt like nothing was happening. I felt numb. I put a jacket on, but I wore shorts to bed and didn't think to put pants on before going outside. My hands were deep in my pockets, but that didn't do much. I knew I must've been shaking—likely from a mix of the frigid air and anxiety. Emotionally, I was trying to block the bad feelings out. That didn't stop my eyes from burning with tears. I refused to let them fall, though. I didn't need to cry on top of everything else.

At one point, they didn't have water, so we were all standing around, watching and waiting for more.

What felt like a while later, it looked like the flames were finally going down. The firemen still had work to do, but it seemed pretty safe to say that the fire wouldn't spread.

My parents figured it was safe to go back inside, and I followed suit. Tomorrow was a school/work day, so we needed to get back in bed to hopefully get a couple of hours of sleep.

Back in the house, we debated showering to rinse off the smell of smoke that seemed to permeate the air. I decided to deal with that later. For now, I wanted to sleep in the hope that I wouldn't be completely dead on my feet during the day.