Midnight Flame

   "In everyone's life, at some times, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for these people who rekindle the inner spirit." A quote by Albert Schweitzer. Life likes to test our limits. Some people can handle the fire, while others get burned under the pressure. In times of extreme pressure, a person's support system determines which side will win.

The night started out like any other. Daddy came home from work on that Valentine's Day with the tiny hearts full of chocolates. He had also gotten Liz, my stepmother, the grill she had been asking for because their anniversary had been two days before. She cooked on it that night for dinner. We were all laughed and joked as we sat around the kitchen table like every night before. We all discussed what we were going to wear for picture day the next day or about how the talent show was coming up soon. We were all so happy. After dinner, we all piled up in the living-room to watch television. Our routine was nothing out of the ordinary: Daddy and Liz on their love seat in the middle; Ricky and I on the couch to their right; Michelle and Micky were on the couch to their left. A random show on the television that Daddy—he was always in charge of what we watched—had chosen. He filtered through our family time. I watched the loving couple next to me enjoy listening to us four children interact; laughing at our senseless conversations and loving the simple life they had built together for the previous nine years. As we said our "good night"s and "I love you"s, we all disappeared into our separate rooms, none of us expecting the events that occurred hours later.

We were never supposed to eat Daddy's lunch meat, and we were only allowed one Coke at dinner, but my two younger sisters often snuck into the kitchen late at night to get a piece of the lunch meat and a coke. They always left the kitchen light on. After they snuck back to their rooms, I would walk in and turn the light off so no one would get in trouble. Every now and then I would sneak up on them, scaring them because they got caught in the act. The look on their faces always amused me. That night I was awakened to the sound of paper crumpling, I assumed it was the girls. I got out of bed and prepared to scare them. As I opened the door, I was the one left scared. Black smoke creped from the roof to the floor. I slammed the door, but not quickly enough to miss inhaling some of the dark clouds. I made my way quickly to the window. Though already weakened from the smoke, I realized I was not able to push the air conditioner from my window and make my escape. Suddenly, the light in my room went out, leaving me in complete darkness. Not sure if I was the only trapped inside; I searched frantically for anything big enough to break the window. The smoke exhausted me, making it hard to find anything big enough to break the window. I thought back to what teachers and firefighters had always taught us in school about what to do in case of a fire. I quickly laid on my bedroom floor, unsure of how this was going to end. I quickly came to terms with my inevitable outcome. I asked God to make whatever was to happen, happen quickly. Breathing was becoming harder and harder. I grabbed my pillow in hopes of blocking out the smoke. Thinking back now, I don't remember being scared of the outcome. I was at peace that God knew what was best.

Just before the smoke overtook me, I heard a voice. At first, I was confused. Soon, I recognized the voice as my dad's. He was calling for someone, though I wasn't sure what he was saying. I used the last of my strength and yelled out for him, hoping he would hear me.

I yelled "da...dad...daddy I'm in here"

I guess I passed out because the next thing I knew I was being dragged across the front yard. I opened my eyes to look into my father's frightened face. There was a terrible taste in my mouth, and my father hurriedly scarped black smut out of my mouth because it was clogging my airway. Dazed and confused, it took me a few moments to grasp what had just happened. He had heard me. My dad had heard me yelling for him. I was so happy to be alive.

Without my glasses, I couldn't see much, but the red, bright light of the burning trailer was hard to miss. After making sure I was okay, my father went back for the others. As I waited in the back of the cop car, I spotted my brother. Ricky told me the girls were at our grandmother's house, next door. At least that's what I thought he said. As they loaded us into the ambulance. I found out that only Micky had gotten out. They were still looking for Michelle. I was informed that my stepmother had also not made it out of the house. She had gotten stuck in the window trying to escape. They placed me on the gurney and put Micky behind me. At only six at the time, she was scared. I asked the nurse if Micky could sit next to me instead. Ricky took the chair behind me. I had no clue where my father was at anymore. As the paramedics finished the paperwork, we pulled out of our driveway. I had caught a small glimpse of the red hue of the place I called home for so many years and I knew things would never be the same.

I don't remember much of the drive to the hospital or even getting there. I do remember lying in the room, not truly sure what we were going to do. Our home and all our things were gone. My stepmom and my little sister, were gone. As I lay in the hospital bed, I looked at the clock. It was 6:00 A.M. 5 hours have passed since we got to the hospitals I don't remember falling asleep. I stared at the clock. 6:05 A.M. Normally, we would be preparing for school. How could this have happened to us? My grandmother Rose, Aunt Laura, and aunt Maire stayed with me most of the day. Around eight o'clock, finally they took me to get out of my burned and torn clothes and wash dirty hair. My feet were sore, I had trouble standing up straight. As I stood, I had a bit nausea. With my aunt Marie's help, I undressed and showered. My Aunt Laura had gone down to the gift shop and purchased some clothes for me. I changed they took me back to my room; and we were soon released with just minor injuries. I had some lung damage and a few stitches on my right middle finger. I was the luckiest. Ricky had second degree burns on the palms and fingers of both hands. Micky had a rather large burn on both her forehead and left upper arm. Daddy, whom I found out had ridden in the car with my grandparents to the hospital, had gotten thirty-seven staples on the back of his upper left leg, a few inches from his butt, along with a few minor cuts and bumps. We were alive, and that's all that mattered.

The drive to my grandparents' house from the hospital was quiet and short. Exhausted. All four of us went to sleep in their bed. My father didn't want us in a room separate from him. We woke to the sound of my real mother, who had just gotten the news and rushed to the house. She was crying. She had seen the news, as one had her number, to contact her. We all settled into the living room: both sets of my grandparents; my mom and stepdad; my aunts and uncles; my brother and sister, my dad and me. Everything was so overwhelming, I broke down in tears for what felt like the hundredth time. After such a horrible tragedy, it helped to be surrounded by the people I love the most.

Wednesday, February 15th, 2012 at 12:30 A.M. For everyone else around the country, it was just another day. For us, it was the day everything went up in flames. All that was left was are three pictures that show the aftermath of the tragedy that had happened. Life can change at any moment. We were not prepared, but we have adapted. We have lived our lives with the new development, not letting life tear us apart. The fire at midnight may have destroyed our things and two people we love deeply, but it can never burn our relationships. Our love has been rekindled by the fact that we stood by us. We can always buy new stuff. We still had our memories. Life goes on and we have to go along for the ride.