I passed by my fireplace. Oranges, yellows, and reds, dancing on thick logs behind silver bars.

I headed towards the bookshelf on the wall, and picked up my favorite book. I’ve read it a million times, but it still excites me.

I sat down on the couch, in front of the fireplace, and started to read.

My mother called me from outside, “SWEETY! Uhh, get outside, NOW!”

“Coming!” I rolled my eyes, thinking it was something minimal, like dad mowed the lawn wrong again.

I stood up and placed the book back on the bookshelf in its special place slowly.

My mom called me again, more urgent this time.

I rushed outside, not wanting to be yelled at.

I opened the door and stepped outside, right as my mom grabbed me by the arm.

“Look… it’s fire,” my mom spoke softly as she point towards the town.

All the houses were engulfed in orange, yellow, and red flames.

It was only a matter of time before it got to us.