The Fire made of Pretend

[The Challenge: Write about what you would run out of the house with if your house caught on fire.]

When I read this challenge my mind instantly screamed SHOES! but the mature part of me beats down that thought with a steel bat and says NO in that stern mothering voice. 

I put myself in the challenge and think of the scenario:

I’m sitting on the center of my bed with my laptop on my knees and my dog snuggled next to me. I’m blogging like I always do and am lost in my own world when my nose begins to twitch and I can smell something burning. Like any other person who is caught up in the pages of their story I dismiss this smell and justify my thought by thinking ‘It’s coming from outside – nothing to worry about.’

When the smell increases and smoke is seen peaking around the corner of my bedroom door, I begin to question my first thought and get up to check the scene. Because I had stupidly mistaken the smell as coming from outside, my kitchen is now in flames and smoke is starting to pour towards me as I stand with my back towards the only exit to my flat.

Knowing that I won’t be able to defeat the flames which hungrily lick at anything that shouts flammable, I run back into my room and pick up my cell phone, my laptop, my ID, my keys and my purse. I yell at my dog who obeys without hesitation and she follows me into my parents’ house (my flat is attached to their house) I run down to my mother’s room and pull out the file that I know contains everything valuable and important with regards to our family history, births, deaths etc. and tuck this under my arm. I then open the front gate leading into the front yard and pick up the two other dogs who I know will run off at the first sign of freedom. I dash into the front yard, open the electronic main gate while unlocking my car and shove the dogs inside before I climb in. I reverse the car into the road and call the fire department in Somerset West (021 590 1900 – for those of you who don’t know this number). 

While I wait for the fire department to arrive, I watch my parents’ house and my flat burn down and wonder how I’m going to explain this to my parents who trusted me to house-sit while they were away on their holiday.

 
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