Young Writers Society

Faith - Chapter Six

“Bow ties *are* cool.” I loved bow ties. Just compare them to normal ties. They look so formal and so fancy. But you didn’t have to be at a fancy dress competition to wear one.

My father was scooping up his last strands of pasta when he said, “That was a great meal…son…son! SON!” His eyes grew open wide, as he stood up. I stood next to him when he whispered, “There’s a man in our backyard.” I turned around. Our eyes locked. And the last thing I remembered before I fell unconscious was him taking out a flamethrower.
*****
Something was stopping my eyes from opening. I felt heat rub across the whole of my right side. I needed to see. I needed to see! I rolled around so my nose was touching the ground. Ahh. Much better. I opened them and then rolled back around to see where I was. I was lying down on the carpet, in the dining room. With a piece of the roof about to fall on top of me.

*Oh crap!* I stood up as fast as I could and ran to...to...where?! There was fire surrounding me. Everywhere I looked - fire. I would have to make a dash to the Boulevard. I looked up and saw the roof slowly peeling off, like an orange peel. *This is it.*

I leaped towards the door and then ran. Ran like I never ever had ran before. Adrenaline ran through my legs, my heart pumping like constant beeping of a heart monitor. Faster and faster and faster and faster, until I thought it would blow up. I squinted my eyes as the wind gushed past me and hit my ears. I felt the heat starting to wade off behind me. I turned around, still running, as I saw what had become of our house.

The modern facade had disappeared and had now turned into an old, rotting, skeleton. The wooden frames which were left were being engulfed by the fire, charcoaled black smears of paint sprinting down them. It was impossibly hard to say that the house was ever more than a single-story, yet if you said that either, people would still laugh. I watched as our house - our only house - burned down to the ground.

I turned back around and stopped walking. Abba was limping his way over to me as I ran to help support him. It was only then when I saw the burn marks he had on his arms and legs.

"Oh my god...what happened to you?! We have to get to a hospital..."

"No...no...I'll be alright...no need for going to a hospital." I sighed. I knew it. He knew it. We both knew what was stopping us - the price. *Oh, we should've moved to Canada...* I tossed those thoughts away and sat Dad down in the car.

"We're going to the hospital to get you all fixed up." I knew what was coming next. We had already experienced it. Hell.
*****
I sat in the hospital hallway, crying. I was asking myself how this happened. Who was that man? How did he get into our house? How did he have a flamethrower?! A nurse came over and asked me if anything was wrong when I quickly wiped my tears and politely replied with a no. Again - everything was wrong.