♤eight : teeth♤
The smell of ash and burning leaves rose into my head and I never wanted to leave. My house was gone, and the ashes rose up into the air even a week after the fire. With the slightest bit of movement, a cloud of ash burst up in the air right in front of me. Coughing, I stumbled back to the police car that escorted me back to my home. I had asked a firemen a few days before whether they had found anything of mine or my parents that survived the fire. Laughing, he thought it was a joke and showed me my parents teeth. I stared, open mouthed, completely full of hate. Once again, I felt the world was against me. Tears washed down my cheeks like Niagara Falls. My skin was wet and stained with salty tears. I never wanted to go back again after that. The firefighter thought his joke was hilarious, but I thought otherwise. He must have felt guilty, or his wife made him, but I got an apology and get well card about a week later.
How was that funny?
Truthfully, I don't think I will ever know.
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about the teeth thing....
commonly, in most fires, they find people's teeth because they have material in them that makes them fireproof apparently? well, anyways, that's how they determine who died in an explosion or fire---by their teeth.
ps. sorry this is short
pps. what does ps stand for
ppps. im bored.
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The Struggle Is Real
Teen Fiction§ fire destroyed my life. my family is *supposedly* in a "better place." left alone, an orphan, i cried. § "It gets better. I promise." "Does it really?" =+=+=+=+=+=+= © stolzenfeld 2014
