I open my eyes, but I had to close them back again because the stinging of the smoke was too strong. I tried to move, but there was something weighting me down. My face was in fire and it was wet with something, and I painfully lifted one hand and touch my forehead. I open my eyes, and this time I could keep them open. My hand was cover in blood, and the coppery smell made me dizzy.My sight was unfocused, but I tried really hard to make out what was the thing that was pinning me down,and when I finally did, I froze. It wasn't something holding me down, it was someone, someone I knew very well.
"Mom?" my voice was just a whisper. I put my hands on her shoulders and shook her, but she didn't move. I looked around and notice the flames coming from the kitchen and were slowly making their way to the living room, were we were.
What had happen?
And then I remember, Mom, Dad, the fight, the bottle, the stab. It all came back to me, all crashing down at once. I shook my mom again, there was still no response. I brush her hair out of her dark brown hair out of her face and I scream. My moms eyes stare back at me, fear written all over them. They were as lifeless and the body that belong to it. I scream again, calling out for her, shaking her, but still she will still just lie dead in my arms. And then I saw it, protruding from her back was a piece of glass from a broken bottle. It was dug deep in her back, possibly piercing one of her lungs. I couldn't move, the shock numb my body, making me feel cold even with the blazing fire...
I looked around the fire had reach the living room and the ceiling, and it was about to collapse any minute now. I looked at my moms body, lying on the carpet, unmoving and unfazed, by this burning hell that was consuming our home. I wasn't going to leave her. I took and arm under her back and one under her knees an lifted her up. I ran to out of the living room and was about to reach the door when the ceiling gave away and some concrete fell in me. I dropped Mom and fell to the floor, my sight becoming even more unfocused now. I couldn't move, the concrete had my legs pinned down. I could only see fire, all around me ,and my mom, lying on the floor. Slowly the fire touch her and I watch as it consume her piece by piece. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, I could only watch as what once had been my mom, became ashes right in front of my eyes. I knew I was going to die too, so I just lay there waiting for my death, waiting for fire to claim me too.