The Fire

A helpless man trapped in a fire describes what he sees and feels as the fire comes closer

The flames are growing higher, lighting up the dark like a flickering nightmare. The air is thick with smoke which the fire is sprouting from its terrifying branches, making every breath an indistinct wheeze as it billows into my lungs, weighing them down like cement. The great wall of colour blackens everything it touches and reduces everything in its way to ash and its advancing. My head is throbbing from the incredible heat which radiates from the dancing red shapes; they are taunting me as I lie helpless on the ground. Alone. I’m chocking on the smoke which is plunging me into an unfathomable darkness. I can now barely make out the torrent of fire but I can still hear it eating everything in front of me. I can still feel its fiery breath lunging at me. My eyes are heavy with stinging sweat and tears which pour from my head like a river. My coughs are now splutters. My muffled cries for help are extinguished by the bellowing roar which gets louder and louder with every moment.

 

The throbbing in my head gets lighter. My bodies begging me to give up, to relax. All I want is the pain to end. I can feel my blood boiling, and my skin melting. I don’t even have the strength to throw myself into the chaos before me. All I can do is wait for the darkness to envelop me completely. I close my eyes and wait for the inferno. I close my eyes and wait for death.