Thinking about it still hurts.
Brings back memories of tears and pain.
If I concentrate, I can remember.
Remember the heat of that summer day.
The ivy that grew up the side of the only home i had ever known.
The smoke looked so out of place against the pale, blue sky.
I knew my family was still inside the raging inferno and I knew better than to hope.
I'd heard stories about the risks of having a wooden house, but I never thought that it would affect me.
But, I knew I had just been proven wrong.

It takes a moment to lose everything.

In what seemed like a year, the fire trucks and the ambulance speed down my street and into my driveway.

Hours later in the hospital, the doctor came over slowly to tell me the news about my parents and 8yr old brother.

Thinking about it still hurts. . .