November 14, 1968. I was only six years old when it happened. The day before was quite peaceful. If only I had known what was coming. Maybe I could have prevented it. Maybe I could have stopped my happiness from turning into a pile of ash. I wish I could have done exactly that.
I had just woken up from an odd nightmare. To this day, I can’t remember exactly what my nightmare had been about. But it was terrifying. I awoke to the noise of a loud beeping. I sleepily rubbed my green eyes. The wretched smell of smoke ran its way through my nose. I let out a light cough. I immediately gasped at the sight of the red light emerging from the hallway past my room. I tossed my soft pink covers onto the bed as I jumped out of bed. My bare feet against the warm wood floor. I swiftly opened my dandelion yellow door as a gust of hot air wafted into my face. I drifted out of the doorway to see the horrifying scene. I felt the sizzling breeze upon my skin. The grand staircase was burning in splotches. The wallpaper edges were peeling and burning. I looked down from the top of the mezzanine, only to see my childhood burning before my eyes. In utter shock I collapsed onto the floor. I felt myself begin to tear up. My nose began to run.
Faint sirens and screams. I cried out to my mom and dad from the floor. I got no answer. I continued to scream and cry. My throat burned and scratchy as it began to hyperventilate. I scooted myself till my back was to the wall. I slumped over into a ball. I sobbed into my nightgown. Tears streaming down my face, wetting my nightgown. The sounds of the flames consuming my home fill my ears. The whipping of fire and the crackling of wood.
I heard a loud crash to the left of me. I flash my puffy eyes toward the sound. The stairs had crumbled to the floor. The sound of the crash replayed in my head over and over for minutes on end. Within the chaos I heard a yell,
“Juniper!”
I stood up wondering who it was. I spotted my mom downstairs, trapped between rubble, reaching as if I could help. I noticed blood coming from her forehead. Scrapes and scratches all over her. I was able to see something had pierced the side of her abdomen, creating a puddle of blood under her. She continued yelling,
“Juniper! Sweetie, where are you?”
I shrieked. Yelling over and over “MOM!”.
I watched as she fell faint and the fire creeped toward her. The sirens were closer now. I grasped onto the railing continuing to call her. I felt more tears building up in my eyes. The railing had begun to crack. It snapped off from its resting place. It fueled the flames as it hit below me. I stumbled backward, regaining my balance. I collapsed back onto the floor. I just kept crying and screaming. I couldn’t stop in fact. My breathing grew more unsteady as time went on. I looked back at my mom, watching as the flames began to consume her. The smell of burning flesh started filling the mansion. Seeing her skin change from pale to pink, then red, and purple. I watched as her skin melted off of her face. Slowly revealing the layers of muscle and bone underneath her skin. I just kept screaming, I didn’t know what else to do. I stared at her, blood flooding out of her body, burnt everywhere, being crushed by rubble.
The stairs had fallen down, which was my only way down. I was trapped. The flames grew higher by the minute. I closed my eyes wishing this was just a bad nightmare. I never woke up from this nightmare. It just kept going on and on.
I heard a sound coming from downstairs. My eyes flashed to meet the noise. It was my dad, limping his way toward my mom. His leg bruised, burnt, and bloody. I couldn’t make a peep as I watched the horror unfold in front of me. As he made his way over to my mom, who was unresponsive, the chandelier had unnaturally begun to sway. Before I even knew it the large stained glass window that had been there my whole life had shattered. I shifted my attention to the window. The beautiful window I had gazed at for hours in the past was gone, and the shards began to fly through the air. I finally cried out to him,
