This is a short story about a boy’s apartment catching flames. I liked the idea, so this might be a book. So, here it is.  

I woke up from my slumber to the smell of smoke. The smell was strong. Half asleep, I got up off my bed and went to check where the smoke was coming from. Maybe it’s just my mom enjoying a cigarette. I pushed open my door and found myself to a kitchen in flames. I shielded myself from the heat. I need to call 9-1-1. I thought. I saw a bottle of scotch on the coffee table in the living room. She must’ve passed out on the couch. That’s why she hasn’t noticed the fire…
     To get to my mother, I was going to have to get through the flames. I needed a fire extinguisher. I remembered that one was out in the hall. I raced out into the hallway, looking for a fire extinguisher to save my mom. I spotted one over to my left. People were starting to get out of their rooms to see what was going on. I flew over to the extinguisher and grabbed it. I raced back to my room, opened the door, and was shocked to what I saw. My apartment was covered in fire. The heat was intense, and I stumbled back.
“NO!” I shouted. I pulled the pin off the extinguisher and pressed the lever. I sprayed the foam on the fire, but saw it had little effect. The fire had gotten uncontrollable.
     “NOOOOO!” I started crying. A man grabbed me. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing you can do.” His voice sounded far away. “We need to go.”  I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to cry and lie down and stay there until the flames engulfed me. But the man picked me up and carried me. There was already a line forming around the stairs. The man swore. People started to shove and push. No one didn’t want to find out what happened when you’re in the back of the line. Ha. Last one out is a rotten egg. And burned alive. I smiled at my nasty joke. The man flung me on his soldiers and started shoving people. I looked back and saw the hallway. The fire had spread to it. In a few minutes, it would be on us. I closed my eyes, and pretended that this wasn’t happening. That I was back in my bed. That this was a dream. I slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

     I don’t remember much. All I remember is the man pushing his way through the crowed, people screaming, trampling over each other. Then I remember the man carrying me to a ambulance. For one brief moment, I could see my apartment. The fire was huge. Firemen were trying to put it out. All my possessions, gone. Everything was wiped out. My stuff, my home. Even the only family I had. Not wanting to see the catastrophe, I closed my eyes and fell back into unconsciousness.


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