“There is a fire in your backyard”. Those seven words woke up my house like a tornado. Fire. Backyard. Within five minutes, Mama and Papa woke both Atharva and I and we were all standing together staring out at the master bedroom window facing the newly bought house wrapped in a blanket of engulfing flames. Three cops and blinking lights and sirens and screaming and the sound of water and open doors of neighbors and and… it was all too much for 2 AM in the morning. The house on 55 Anne Street was gone within an hour. It was all a normal night. The Polish family was doing some cleaning up and packing up for the night to move into their newly bought house purchased a mere week ago. We all went to sleep as if it was a normal Wednesday winter
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He could just crawl up next to Mama and sleep peacefully. He was just too naive to understand. To understand that they had no home to live in with their three year old son, understand that we could be in the same position as them. Mama and Papa sent both of us to our rooms and closed their door in a way that only they did. They would turn the handle and push the door into the frame right before letting go of the handle gently. I never understood why they did that but I was more concerned about the house next door. My tiny fingers perked up the beige blind shutters and I peeked out at the house from my window and knew that the fire was stubborn. No matter how much water the firefighters were spraying on the fire, it would not die down. I could hear whispering but could not make out the words. I knew he would say something like, is our house in danger? Should we do anything? With the disarray of thoughts in my 12 year old mind, I somehow managed to go to sleep after an hour of tossing and …show more content…
I peeked out at the house from my window and new that the fire was stubborn. No matter how much water the firefighters sprayed on the fire, it would not die down. With the array of thoughts in my twelve year old mind, I somehow managed to go to sleep only to wake up to hickory brown, burnt, dilapidated pieces of wood laying where the frame of the house used to be. The house that I grew up my whole life watching. I loved the antique looking window frames and shutters. I loved the flower bed on the side of the house. I loved the front porch with the two twin rocking chairs. All that was left now were memories. No one inside their homes really realized how much of a disaster this was in the pitch black night but in the bright day, it was quite obvious. When Mama and Papa went outside on the cold, frigid, winter thursday morning to examine our part of the property, I followed them outside. We all took a deep breath when we realized that the only “damage” on our property was a patch of burnt grass caused from a spark igniting in our backyard. Luckily, it was put out swiftly by our firefighters. In that moment, we all realized how lucky we all were in that we weren’t physically injured and neither was our precious
He could just crawl up next to Mama and sleep peacefully. He was just too naive to understand. To understand that they had no home to live in with their three year old son, understand that we could be in the same position as them. Mama and Papa sent both of us to our rooms and closed their door in a way that only they did. They would turn the handle and push the door into the frame right before letting go of the handle gently. I never understood why they did that but I was more concerned about the house next door. My tiny fingers perked up the beige blind shutters and I peeked out at the house from my window and knew that the fire was stubborn. No matter how much water the firefighters were spraying on the fire, it would not die down. I could hear whispering but could not make out the words. I knew he would say something like, is our house in danger? Should we do anything? With the disarray of thoughts in my 12 year old mind, I somehow managed to go to sleep after an hour of tossing and …show more content…
I peeked out at the house from my window and new that the fire was stubborn. No matter how much water the firefighters sprayed on the fire, it would not die down. With the array of thoughts in my twelve year old mind, I somehow managed to go to sleep only to wake up to hickory brown, burnt, dilapidated pieces of wood laying where the frame of the house used to be. The house that I grew up my whole life watching. I loved the antique looking window frames and shutters. I loved the flower bed on the side of the house. I loved the front porch with the two twin rocking chairs. All that was left now were memories. No one inside their homes really realized how much of a disaster this was in the pitch black night but in the bright day, it was quite obvious. When Mama and Papa went outside on the cold, frigid, winter thursday morning to examine our part of the property, I followed them outside. We all took a deep breath when we realized that the only “damage” on our property was a patch of burnt grass caused from a spark igniting in our backyard. Luckily, it was put out swiftly by our firefighters. In that moment, we all realized how lucky we all were in that we weren’t physically injured and neither was our precious