. . .
The house just bursted. Years of memories, but it took just one night to burn. The house just bursted like that. The roof shingles created fireworks for my sadness. The broken windows created a bed of nails for me to lie on. The front door intimidated me to walk straight into the fire. It seemed as if this whole house wanted the Smith family to die. I was almost about to turn around accept the invites when I saw Jack. “No, Matthew. No! You have to live. You have to survive. For Jack. You are the only one left for him! You are his older brother! So, act like one.” My subconscious said. I took a deep breath in and spoke out loud, “Jack, I just want you to know, I will always be there for you. ‘” I took his face, put it in my hands, and continued, “Who knows maybe Megan, Mom, and Dad are safe!” But we both knew what was true. As we reached the doorstep of the Ramos’s house, I remembered Megan’s instructions: Go to the Ramos’s, ring their doorbell, and call 911. Usually Megan used to boss us around. Now, I will cherish those moments. It’s interesting, how one spark of light can either start a marvelous thing, such as inspiration or an idea. Or it can fully destroy your life, like it did to ours. After all, the cause for our loss was started by the spark of a fire. Passing time with these thoughts, I finally reached the doorstep of my neighbor’s house. I kept on ringing the bell till I heard loud thumps of footsteps inside. The front door swung open, and Mr. Ramos stood in a navy green night suit with frown on his face. “Ain’t ya’ s’pposed to be sleepin’ boy?” Mr. Ramos asked. He had a funny New York accent. It was hard to listen to him without breaking a smile. But now was not the time to make fun of accents. Our lives were in danger! I looked Mr. Ramos in the eye for the first time and pointed towards our house. “My house! It’s gone! Can…can we call 911 using your phone?” I stammered. He muttered a few words under his breath and nodded. I ran toward the phone as Jack told me our address. “Mrs. Lamares said to always remember your address in case of an emrency.”
“Emergency” I corrected. I dialed the three numbers. “Jackson Police. What department should I call?? Fire, Police or Hospital?”
“Fire and Hospital!” I replied, and I told them my address. In less than two minutes, fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars cornered my house. As I was watching the flames in my house go down, I heard Jack’s quiet sobbing. I took a deep breath in when I saw my mother laying on a stretcher. I quickly averted Jack’s eyes from the damage. I saw an officer walking toward us with a pitiful look on her face. Oh no! What was going to happen to us now?