A Mass Murdering In The House This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
   Four a.m: the dog's barking won't stop. I slowly open my eyes to see the beginnings of smoke. My mother runs into my bedroom pulling me out of bed saying "Call 911!" As I reach the stairs, I freeze in shock. Looking down the stairs, I watch orange and red flames dance around my living room. I run and duck beneath the smoke followed by my mother, brother, and dog, out of the house. I continue to run across the street screaming and crying for help, as if there were a mass murderer in the house. Then as the nine fire trucks arrive, I stare at all the people watching the destruction of my house. Then I look back at the house watching the firemen break down the front door, smashing it to pieces - like watching a mirror shatter. Then as their hoses begin to shoot water, I say farewell to my house and all the beloved memories buried in floods of water. All I feel is sadness as my house is further destroyed.

Seven a.m: I walk back into my house stepping on pieces of glass, once my front door, and walk up to my room. As I go up the stairs, I pass the deep gray-colored smoke and water-stained walls, and soaked broken-down furniture, trying desperately to hold in my tears. I approach my bedroom, and see all my belongings destroyed. I walk over to my what was once white now black chair, sit down, and let my tears emerge. Mom comes in, sits down next to me, and we embrace. c


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback