The Fire
Imogen Andrews
(Worcestershire)
Something was wrong. My eyes were stinging so much that it was unbearable to open them, my nostrils were burning with the smell of smoke, I was scorching hot. There was a fire. I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out. I had to act fast before the building collapsed. Fumbling for the latch, I started yanking at the jammed window. It eventually opened, there were flashing blue lights and sirens. There were voices screaming at me to jump. My mind went dizzy with fright. I teetered on the window-sill, closed my eyes and made the leap of my life.
***
Things were never the same after the fire. We got a beautiful new house with a big garden but mum was always crying. I was always trying to sidle up to her and tell her every thing was all right but she just seemed to look through me like thin air. I wondered what the matter was with her. I suddenly felt a pang running through my chest, mum was always happy and laughing, but ever since the fire she had been different and I was worried she might be really ill.
It was also the same at school. Nobody noticed me and when I tried to speak to someone they just ignored me. It was like I had some terrible disease that nobody wanted to catch. I felt terrible, not even the teachers would answer me. I did all my work correctly but the teacher didn’t even notice I was there.
It all changed that day, when I woke up tired in the morning and went into Mums room to ask her where we were going. Of course I knew that I was going to get no response but it was still worth a try. When I entered, I didn’t see what I was expecting, Mum was sitting on her bed wearing black with her sorrowful head in her hands.
Mum suddenly cried out “ I’ve got to face it today, it can’t wait any longer.”
‘Face what?’ I wondered out loud.
Mum wailed out again,“ The grave, I can’t bear it.”
Oh. Dear Grandma.
I felt strangely dreamy today and a bit light headed but I took no notice. I sloped off to my room then started to put on my best black clothes just like mum was doing.
The whole family, with watery eyes, slumped into the car. I swiftly followed, still feeling quite peculiar. When we approached the church graveyard, I noticed a new small child’s grave. ‘How sad,’ I thought silently to my self. It was so strange that the family were walking towards the grave. I tried to remember a child who might be dead but no one came to my head. We were now so close to the grave I could read what it said. My name… ‘Elsie May.’
That peculiar feeling overwhelmed me. I felt … I was fading … fading away … away.