“The house is on fire. It’s on fire. Wake up! Wake up! We have to do something.”
“For God’s sake!” my father exclaimed as he suddenly realized what was happening, leaping out of bed and running to the stairs. I quickly followed him but glanced back at their bed. My mother was having trouble getting out of the bed due to the unbelievable amounts of smoke entering the room. I pulled her out of bed, and gripping her hands tightly, guided her to the door where we hesitantly made our way downstairs. My dad had literally jumped down the whole flight of stairs in front of us and had lunged forward to the phone on the landing wall. He nervously phoned 999, trembling, and only managed to mutter what was happening.
“Err….Th-The house is on F-Fire. Please help. We need the fire brigade. Err.. 7 Fife road, East Sheen. Please come quickly, this is an emergency.”
He left the phone off the hook, dangling in mid air on the cord, and shouted at us to follow him. It seemed like a parallel universe we were entering into as we saw the engulfing flames creeping up from the other end of the landing. It was almost as if giant, outstretched arms were beckoning us to fall into them. They flames were stealing our every inch of our living space, taking everything we owned.
Destruction.
My father led us into the bathroom, and opened the big, white, glazed bathroom window just above the toilet. It was our fire escape window, leading to the roof above our kitchen. I clambered though the window, closely followed by my mother. My dad had closed the bathroom door, jumped up on the toilet back and forced his way through the window, which was pretty hard for him, seeing it was relatively small window. No sooner then all of us had settled on the roof, distant sirens could be heard, making their way towards us. My mind’s elation set by the ever-closer feeling of Christmas was growing overcast by the minute and I was finding it hard to concentrate on our situation. Here we were, sitting above our home, where beneath us, a raging fire of torment was destroying any hope of a peaceful Christmas. There was nothing we could do but sit and wait.
Neighbours gathered upon streets gripped with inquisitiveness and sympathy, watching us as we were hoisted out onto our front garden with the aid of two firefighters. After the initial shock had settled in, we were taken to the hospital to be treated for any injuries or trauma we may have suffered from. The overwhelming aspect of our situation had finally sunken in, and it was obvious now this was going to be an extraordinary Christmas.
My mother waited in the hospital waiting room in the accident and emergency for me. I was the only one in the family who had managed to obtain injuries from the fire. It was hard enough overcoming the change in your mind, as well as the change of your physical appearance. I could see my reflection, hazed, in the shiny, metallic surface, of the bed opposite me. I had changed. Burn scars had built a hostile breeding ground on my shoulders and neck. I looked down at my arms. I could not bear to stare any longer. I had obtained 3rd degree scars on my back and neck, and 2nd degree burns on my arms and chest. But, after all this, it was a small price to pay for everything this world had to offer me. My life was being torn apart at this point. My hope of a peaceful and fulfilled Christmas had suddenly been turned into an unreachable dream. Not having a home for Christmas seemed a daunting thought. Our presents had not yet lined the tree, as my mother thought it best not to put out the presents until Christmas Eve. Every year she would come up with different hiding places around the house to hide the presents and I loved to search the house high and low for any signs of them. Unfortunately, this anticipation was all shattered. The chilling winter air, was circling the nearly empty hospital throwing us into a bleak and uncaring world of hatred and despair. If only I had bothered to find out the cause of that smell. The mind wrapping, secluding smell, of disaster to come. If only I let my curiosity get the better of me. If only I had the will, the force, even the courage.
If only.
I didn’t know how my parents were coping with this, as they both seemed to so quiet and isolated. Couldn’t they see what had happened to me or what I was going through? I lay back in the bed and looked up at the mellow, cloudy white of the ceiling. I would have to stay here for another night, but I was grateful for where I was. A tear trickled down the right side of my face and over my chin. Everything had happened so quickly, but it has all changed forever.
* * *
As I looked out of the window, of my uncle’s spare bedroom, on the eve of what used to seem such special day, small snowdrops floated from the sky and built up ever so neatly on the window frame. Something struck me as I gazed there at them. Christmas hadn’t just become time when all there was to do was to give and receive presents. It had become an occasion when you could spend time with your family and friends, and help other people with things they need.
6 months on I still think of consequences that my family and I have been affected by. It has made an indelible mark in my life, and I have changed because of it. I now view life in a totally different light. I took so much for granted back then, so in a way, I deserved to experience what I did just to make me realize what life was really like. Your family is more important than anything else this world has to offer, and nothing can change that. My liberty has been damaged, whilst the colour of life still surrounds me. I feel loneliness, seclusion and frustration but the darkest day is now over. I can escape the wilderness of restlessness to a better path and a better existence, knowing that one thing is true. We must not succumb to the complacency that we are all starting to fall victim for. If this is done, we can all control our lives for the better.
My synopsis of life has now changed. Everything that I took for granted back then, all means so much to me now. Memories, which I will never forget, will always be treasured, and some will haunt me for life. But, above all, it is clear now that above all in this world your family is more important then anything, and they are the ones that will help you through times of need. I still think to myself, it was me who had let this happen. I could have stopped it if I wanted to in the early stages of that night, but my selfishness had got the better of me. But, then again, I thank myself for letting my curiosity and intuition overcome my mind and body eventually, and letting me act as I did. It was a day of misunderstanding, but no one was to blame. After all it did not matter that we had no house for Christmas but at least we had our family. Your family is the one thing that matters most and we must not let the superficiality of life get the better of us. The greatest thing we will ever learn, it just to love, and to be loved in return. I have learnt that lesson and I have changed.
