By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, journalism keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community. – Oscar Wilde

The Fire

As the smoke billows from the house, breaking down and crying is the only thing I could possibly think of, apart from the fact I’ve just lost everything. Everything was in that house. My possessions, my work, even my child. She was the best thing that has ever happened to me and now she’s trapped, trapped in a house that youths set on fire. I just don’t know what to do, I’d run back in even that won’t help as I’ll only get pulled back by firemen. I just hope they get my princess out; I couldn’t bare to lose her.

As I watch the firemen rush to the house with their hoses, pumps and helmets, a lump starts to form in my throat…oh god. Please save her, please. They begin to shower the house with water as I stand, helplessly waiting. Two fire-fighters dressed in flame proof clothing; rush into the house and up the stairs as they’re engulfed by flames.

They continue to flood the outside of the house with water as the fire-fighters inside are still trying to reach my baby. The neighbours are all stood staring from their doors watching the situation unfold. Some take pictures; some hold a hand to their mouths in shock.

As the last flame is extinguished and the house is left a smoking wreck. Fire-fighters who proceeded into the house run out with what looks like my little girl. Her blonde hair is tainted with black soot, her clothes singed.

“Is she alive?! Oh please tell me she is! Give her to me, now!” I screamed as I run towards firemen, who are swiftly moving to the ambulance awaiting their arrival. As I get closer I see her face, her sweet peaceful face, I just want to cuddle her and tell her everything’s okay. As I look further down I see her chest moving slowly…she’s breathing!! Ah she’s alive! Words cannot describe how relieved I am! Everything’s okay, she’s going to be okay, I’m going to be…okay.

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