Shattered Fire

I expected to wake up in fiery smoke, not a hazy cloud. My head was pounding, but I tried to recall the moments before. The ceiling collapsing, the smoggy air, my vision circulating. I had tried to get out, but I guess somehow I did. 

I lifted my palms out and balanced my legs as I stood up. I wasn’t exactly on a cloud, but more of a canopy of soft air. A soft breeze lifted my hair and I peered around my surroundings. This wasn’t my house. This wasn’t my yard or a hospital. My head was splitting into a sharp migraine, but one thing was clear- I needed to find my family. I needed to go back. I needed to find them. 

The surroundings swirled into a pile of background, and I circled around. I was in my front yard, under the Birch tree. My head had cooled and I gripped one of the branches, before looking up. The fire was swallowing the second floor, and I seemed to be the only one out. The red lights of a firetruck swarmed into the street curb, and a mass of firefighters rushed out. Where were my parents? Where were my dog and my little brother? I immediately sprinted to the front door, locked. How did I get out? I reached into the dirt containing my mom’s Geraniums, and I grabbed a serrated rock. I smashed it through the front window, glass showering all over me. I felt nothing. I pulled my torso through the window and inched onto the ground. The fire was now drizzling down the stairs, but I felt no heat.

“Over here!”

A group of firefighters approached the shattered window, although none of them seemed to notice me sprawled on the ground. I scampered up and ran through the bottom floor.

“Mom! Mom! Dad!” 

My heart was splintering, where were they?

“Dad?” a quiet voice called out from behind me.

My brother was limping out of the kitchen, his face covered in soot.

“Jake!” I called out to him, my body running towards him.

A firefighter rushed by me and grabbed my now crying brother. I watched them hasten into the yard, and another firefighter approached them. I turned back around and ran through the kitchen. I watched my school photo plummet from the fridge, the magnet clanking onto the ground. Barks filled my ears, and I hustled towards them. My old, Border Collie was softly yelping at me, and I pulled on her collar. She gently stood up, and I felt her tongue lick my fingers.

“Come on,” I whispered and she tenderly followed me. We went through the now open front door, and onto the blankets of grass. My dog collapsed onto the ground in a panting heap, and I nudged her up. Her green eyes met mine and she slowly rose up. We approached the firefighters, who motionlessly looked through me. I left my dog and started towards the house again, ignoring my dog’s barks for my return. 

Water now splattered and shot through the windows of my house, in an effort to calm the aggressive fire. I felt a part of myself burn away with my childhood home, but silenced the pangs of melancholy. 

I quietly followed a tall firefighter into the house and up the stairs. He timidly sprinted up the stairs, as if his soul was still outside. 

We entered the hallway, the rug now a pile of ash and the framed photos fragmented onto the ground. I saw pieces of my parent’s marriage and Jake’s baseball littered under my footsteps. I heard a soft cough, along with the firefighter, and we went into my parent’s room. 

My dad was clutching onto my mom, both hovered into the corner. They dimly looked up at the firefighter, tears in their eyes.

“Where are my kids?” my mom coughed out. The firefighter ignored her and gripped her arm. My dad shakily stood up.

“Where are my kids? I wanted to find them, the fire, it was just in the way. It was in front of the door, I couldn’t save my kids. Where are they?” my mom rambled on. I don’t think she was talking to the firefighter anymore.

The firefighter softly lifted her up and nodded to my dad. We descended from the room, almost as in a tip-toe, before starting down the uneasy stairs.

The cool wind hugged me as my parents and the firefighter stumbled out. Jake’s eyes met my parents and he sprinted over. My dog bounded up and ran to me. I watched Jake hug my parents, none of them seeming to notice me. My dog licked my face and crawled into my lap.

“Where is she? Where is my daughter?” my mom slowly coughed out. My dad stood up and started walking back towards the house.

“Sir, you can’t go back in,” a firefighter ordered.

“My daughter is in there, I need to go back in,” he firmly responded.

“Dad-” I called out to him. 

He didn’t flinch.

“Where is she?” my mom sobbed out, her eyes looking at the sky now. 

“Where is Arlie? Where’s my dog?” Jake silently murmured to a firefighter.

“I’ve got two firefighters looking throughout the house for your daughter and dog,” the firefighter persistently stated before grabbing my dad’s arm.

“That’s my daughter in there. I need to find her,” my dad argued.

“Dad!” I screamed now. Why couldn’t they hear me?

“No,” the firefighter stopped him. My mom’s sobs were filling the yard.

“Dad! Mom!” I yelled louder. Arlie’s barks followed my screams.

I ran over to my Dad and grabbed his arm, he didn’t even flinch. 

“Dad,” I cried while looking at my hands. Arlie had felt my hand when I brought her out.

And then I remember, Arlie slept in the basement. How could she be in the kitchen? 

My realization caused me to collapse onto the grass, tears fogging into my eyes. Mom’s sob turned into a scream as she joined me on to the grass. Jake stood frozen in his place, as my Dad ran to the firefighter holding my body. Mom’s cries rang through my ears as I watched my Dad grab my life-less hand. Or her hand. I’m not sure if I’m me, or if the body is me. He slowly looked into the sky, tears running down his face.

Arlie softly put her nose into my hand and laid down next to me. We were ghosts.