Prologue

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         It was just after eleven o'clock. Michael sat at his window and watched the lightning flickering in the sky. He could hear faint rumbles of thunder over the sounds of music filtering up from the party below. He and his sister had been sent upstairs to bed an hour ago after dinner had finished. His parents were now drinking, laughing and dancing with their guests. Michael was ten years old, his twin sister Elizabeth was in the next room. He knew she would be awake too. He lay back down on his bed and tried to sleep, but what with the music from the party, and the thunder becoming increasing louder, he knew sleep would be impossible.

There was a soft knock at his bedroom door. He could guess who it was. His sister was always scared of thunder. A few seconds later she was sitting on his bed next to him looking terrified.

"Don't worry, Lizzie, it's just a storm," he said reassuringly, "It can't hurt us...."

He barely got the words out when there was a blinding white flash of light and a huge crash. The house shook. Elizabeth screamed and Michael ran to the window. As he looked out he could see smoke and flames coming from the front of the house. He ran back to the bed. "Lizzie," he shouted, "We've got to get out. The house is on fire."

But Elizabeth just sat on the bed frozen with terror. Finally he managed to coax her to go with him. He flung the bedroom door open but thick smoke was billowing up the stairs, their only way out. He could hear screams coming from below and he thought he could hear his father shouting, "The children!"

Then Michael could see flames licking their way up the staircase walls. He slammed the door shut, and ran to the window. Maybe they could climb down to the ground, but as he looked out he could see flames and smoke billowing from the window directly below them.  

They couldn't get out. The house was going up in flames. They were trapped here in his bedroom until the flames reached them which would only be minutes away. He went back to his bed and sat on it. Elizabeth, who had been watching him, whimpered as she sat next to him, "We can't get out can we? Are we going to die?"

Michael put his arm around her and pulled her close to him as if he could protect her from the fire. Surprisingly he didn't feel frightened at all. He gently stroked his sister's hair and murmured, "Don't worry, Lizzie, it's going to be all right, it's going to be all right."
Moments later the bedroom door caught fire while flames surged in through the window igniting the curtains and the wallpaper. In those last moments Michael felt strangely calm and at peace, and he knew what they must do. He took his sister's hand, they slipped off the bed and calmly walked into the thick smoke.

The screams from the guests on the ground floor soon faded as the fire greedily consumed the building.


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