Chapter 4.7: (The nightmarish past)
It has been 1 year and half since I started living with grandma and the children's I'm 19 now. I was happy to have a lively house with people to talk to after work or school. grandma is very loving and I felt lucky to have her.
However, it did not last long. One day, grandma asked me to buy some doorknobs, screws, and a screwdriver after work. She explained that the door was getting harder to open and often got stuck because the doorknob was old and rusty.
I agreed to buy the items after my part-time work and told her that I would do it as soon as I could. I could see that she was grateful for my help.
However, that same night quickly turned into a nightmarish event for the children.
They were happily playing in the house when suddenly, a disaster struck. Amidst the laughter and joy, a terrifying accident happened. One of the kids accidentally knocked over an oil lamp perched on the bookshelf. The spilled oil quickly caught fire, turning the once peaceful room into a blazing inferno.
The flame quickly grew in intensity, engulfing the wooden structure of our home. Despite the children's frantic attempts to douse the fire with water, it only exacerbated the situation. The combustible nature of the wooden house caused the fire to spread rapidly, consuming the roof and walls with alarming speed.
As the smoke thickened, the children struggled to breathe, their eyes stinging and lungs burning. Their frantic attempts to escape were met with a locked door that trapped them inside the fiery room. Panic and despair seized their hearts as the reality of their plight sank in.
"Help us, please!" they cried out, their voices strained and choked by smoke. But their pleas were met with the crackling roar of the fire that surrounded them, casting sinister shadows in the flickering light. The once carefree expressions on their faces twisted into expressions of terror and desperation.
Osamu, fueled by a surge of courage, tried to break down the door, but it was too late. The fire had turned the room into a nightmarish abyss of searing heat and blinding flames. The children's skin tingled with burns, their clothes catching fire as they gasped for breath in the smoke-filled room.
With each passing moment, their strength waned, their hope flickering like the dying embers of the fire. As the flames claimed their innocence and consumed their very beings, the children's anguished cries faded into the relentless roar of the fire.
- What's going on here?
- Are there people inside the house?
- Don't just stand there!, help us put out the fire!
- Has help not arrived yet?
- Hurry, grab some water buckets!
Grandma arrived at the house and noticed a group of neighbors gathered nearby. As she got closer, she saw thick smoke rising from the burning house. Even though Grandma wasn't fast, she didn't hesitate to step inside the house. The neighbors tried to stop her, but the flames were spreading rapidly, making it too dangerous for them to intervene and prevent Grandma from entering. They had to stay back to avoid getting injured themselves.
- what should we do!? The elderly woman went inside the house.
- Why did she go towards the fire?
As soon as I arrived, I heard people talking and glanced over to see the house on fire. I wanted to rush in to help, but the neighbors quickly stopped me pinning me down.
- Don't go inside!
- Are you out of your mind!? You will die!
- Stay calm, going inside won't help
- Assist us in restraining this child!
I was frozen in terror as the flames swallowed the house whole, blazing brightly in the dark night. The crackling fire roared as I waited anxiously for the firefighters to come and kill the fire.
Finally, the firefighters rushed in with loud sirens blaring, wielding hoses and extinguisher. The flames slowly retreating, leaving behind a burned, charred house that was once a cozy home.
Then the neighbors holding me down finally loosen their grip, giving me just enough of an opening. I didn't hesitate. I run as fast as my legs can carry me. I push forward, heart pounding, as the charred remnants of the house loom in front of me.
The fire is still raging, not fully out. Smoke and small flames crawl through the air, twisting and curling in the heat. The air is thick with the smell of burning wood and flesh. My lungs feel like they're being crushed with every breath I take, the smoke choking me, but I keep moving. And didn't stop.
The heat from the fire presses down on me, my skin prickling with the sting of it. It hurts to even breathe. But I can't think about that right now. I need to find them. I need to know if they're still here.
I walk inside the house, knowing deep down it's already too late, but I need to see it for myself.
As I get closer, my eyes fall on something—someone. Grandma. Her body lies slumped in front of the door. She's face down, her arms stretched out in front of her as if she tried to reach for the door. But the fire has taken everything from her. Her skin is black, burned beyond recognition, and it's stuck to the ground like melted wax, clinging to the charred wooden floor. I can't tell if she's even human anymore. Her face, her features, are gone, melted away in the flames. Her hair has been completely burned off, leaving only scorched skin.
I force myself to look away from her, but the sight is burned into my mind. I look toward the door, hoping to see something—anything—that might tell me the kids are safe.
The door is barely standing. It's half destroyed, hanging by a single hinge. The flames have burned through it, and the charred, burned wood is splintered and broken. I step closer, each step heavier than the last, the air so thick with smoke that it stings my eyes.
And then I see them.
The children.
They are huddled together, stacked behind one another, as if trying to protect each other from the fire. Their small bodies are curled up, their limbs twisted in unnatural positions. But it's clear—there's no saving them. The fire has done it, burning them beyond recognition. The skin on their bodies is so blackened it looks like it's been melted into the ground. Their faces are gone, completely charred, like little lumps of coal.
Their hair is missing, burned off in the fire. Their small fingers are frozen in place, stuck to the ground. They are nothing but twisted, burned corpses. Their bodies are unidentifiable. The heat from the fire has turned them into nothing more than lifeless, charred remnants.
My mind goes blank. I can't think. I can't breathe. My heart is racing, pounding in my chest, so fast I think I might collapse. The world around me feels like it's spinning out of control. How could this happen? How could they be gone like this?
I don't know how long I stand there, staring at the destruction, at the horror. Time feels like it's frozen, and the smoke in my lungs is suffocating. But then I hear voices behind me, loud and urgent.
"Hey! Get away from there!" A voice shouts, snapping me back to reality.
Before I can react, strong hands grip my arms. They pull me back, hard.
"No! Let me go!" I struggle against them, trying to get back to the house. I need to stay, to see them one more time.
"Are you insane?!" a second firefighter yells. His voice is harsh, but there's fear in it, too. "It's too dangerous. We need to get you out of here—now!"
"Let go of me!" I try to break free, but there are three of them. They're strong. I can't fight them.
"You don't need to see this anymore," the third firefighter says softly, but his tone is firm, pulling me further away. "It's over. There's nothing we can do for them."
"Please," I beg, my voice breaking. "Please let me go back. I have to... I have to see them."
"Listen to me," the first firefighter says, his voice hard, almost shaking with frustration. "You need to get out of here. It's too late. It's already too late!"
I struggle against their grip, but they pull me further away from the house. My legs are weak, and I feel like I'm being torn in two. I glance back one last time at the house, the blackened door, the bodies of the children and grandma. my heart... is shattered.
But the firefighters don't stop. They drag me out, away from the smoke, the heat, and the horror. As they pull me farther away, I hear one of them speak into a radio, but I can't make out the words.
The last thing I see is the house—burned to the ground, the smoke rising into the sky like a twisted, dark cloud. I turn my head, unable to look any longer. I don't want to remember. But the images, the faces, will haunt me forever.
after 30 minutes the fire was finally out.
With a heavy heart, I cautiously approached the remains of the house. The acrid stench of smoke lingered in the air as I saw Grandma and the children lying still on the ground. Their bodies were completely charred, like blackened statues.
My expression is unreadable.
I keep thinking to myself, if only I had gotten there a little earlier, maybe I could have saved Grandma and the kids.
"Is it my fault? Am I to blame for what happened to them?"
I can't stop wondering, if I hadn't been so late from work, maybe this terrible thing wouldn't have happened...
I couldn't cry even though I was in a lot of pain I'm just angry at myself. Everything felt too much, and I really wished I could just cry it out. My heart felt broken beyond repair.