If you saw blue flames roaring at you with a fahrenheit of 500 degrees and a door handle that could fry your hand off, what would you do?
Blue flames would mean a chemical fire, and you know what they say: one breath of that air you'll be unconscious but with two you're dead. But not for me.
My name is Sydney and I can tell you that I would have rather died than live through all those procedures, therapy, and medical treatments.
Long story short I was 13 years old and dumb, okay? I opened the door and let that fire burn my skin right off my body. All I remember was waking up to that awful beeping noise, a bright light in my eyes and at least a dozen doctors standing above me, then everything goes black again.
I woke up a month later to see my aunt anxiously sitting in a chair next to me. I look at my arm, their is a long parallel scar going down my arm. It was from the top of my shoulder down to the tip of my middle finger. I look at the rest of my body. It's all the same. There are long scars down my whole body. I'm trying to figure out what happened: did I get cut on something in the fire, or was there something wrong with me internally?
I try to ask my aunt but I'm not strong enough to get the words out yet, so I just make a small coughing noise. She immediately looks at me and starts crying. Finally I have enough strength to say...
"What happened to me?"
