I was walking through the kitchen like I normally would, when I caught a whiff of a strange smell. I looked around and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Not that I would have anyway, dishes crowded the sink and the table had dishes on it piled with bags, papers, a baby monitor, and practically anything else. I shrugged off the smell and walked into our living room. My parents were sitting on the couch, watching some show in black and white. I stood behind them and watched, all I remember is a fancy lady, but I enjoyed what I saw of the show. Jessica stood to the right, by the end of the couch, and watched with us. All of our eyes were glued to the television. If only we knew.

If only we knew that beneath our feet, a fire had started. It was quickly spreading, devouring our house. It was heating up the floor, preparing it to cave in. We were oblivious. If it hadn’t have been for Jessica acting on her senses, I don’t know what would have happened.

A commercial came on and Jessica immediately asked, “What’s that smell?”

We all shrugged and decided to look for the source. The smell had been growing stronger the longer we waited. I stood there for a second longer as Jessica walked behind me and straight into the kitchen. Then, she screamed. I rushed into the kitchen, followed by Papa, and my mom. Black smoke was billowing up from the basement.

I couldn’t comprehend it. Smoke meant fire. No. There couldn’t be a fire. There just couldn’t. Papa had taught us what to do if there was ever a fire. Sometimes he would yell “FIRE!” and we would all rush into the kitchen and hand him the fire extinguisher. He would run down the basement stairs to “put it out.” The thought didn’t even cross my mind.

There was no concept of time. At any moment the floor could cave in. At any moment we could die.

“Grab your shoes and coat and get out!” my mom yelled.

I followed her instructions. Grabbing my winter coat off a kitchen chair and rushing into the bathroom. I couldn’t hear anything. All I knew is that I needed out. I grabbed my shoes, not registering how hot they were, or the flames coming through the bathtub.

I ran. I wasn’t thinking. I just needed to get away. Fight or flight, they call it. I stopped on the porch to put on my shoes, not wanting my feet to freeze in the snow. The snow that I couldn’t see since it was so dark outside. I wrapped my coat around me as the door opened.

Jessica stepped out, holding the baby. She wore no shoes and carried no coat. In all the chaos, she had thought to save the baby instead of take care of herself. I couldn’t believe that I had been so selfish. In my frenzy, I had forgotten about my nephew. My nephew that wasn’t even a year old yet, who was sleeping innocently in his crib during the chaos.

“Go to the Suburban,” Jessica ordered.

I obeyed. If this had been under normal circumstances, I would have protested her telling me what to do. It didn’t even cross my mind. She was in charge this time.

We got in the vehicle and I wrapped my coat around Brian, who was now awake and crying. We found all the blankets that we could, and wrapped them around Brian, then one for us to share when we thought he had enough. Our parents came out shortly after. My dad had grabbed his pants with the keys and his wallet in them. He also grabbed something to wear to work the next day.

That was the only time I ever heard my mother pray.

Sirens. They filled the air a little while later, after we had called from a neighbor’s house. We must have looked foolish. Knocking on a stranger’s door after eight at night, asking to use their phone. We looked rugged, like we had just spent the night outdoors. Yet the firefighters didn’t mind when they saw us. They did their job. Yet, they still had to call more fire trucks.

I watched my house go up in flames. I watched as my memories were destroyed. I watched as my sister cried. I watched the workers bustle back and forth. I watched them spray water onto my house. I watched the fire fight back. That’s all I did.

I watched.