The Fire

December 7, 2017 POETRY / FICTION

Ricardo Gomez Angel photo

 

By

Opal Ingram

 

 

I close my eyes; it seemed like I was in a nightmare

I just tossed and turned all night

I could not remember who was in the nightmare

I was being chased by somebody I did not know;

Maybe a big bad wolf.

 

 

Gina my sister was sound asleep in the next bed, when I smelt smoke

I heard a yell and then Dad yelling at us both to get up. Through the bedroom window I could see fire and a fireman behind it. Things started to happen quickly, the room full of smoke.

It was light outside but seemed like the room was getting darker and darker.

I tried to grab my favorite doll.

 

I could hear the crowd below, people talking loudly.

We went one by one down the ladder until it reached the curb

I felt scared like my body was going to hit the curb.

I felt like I was going to bust my head, I just wanted to throw up but I cried instead.

We were standing across the street and the building was burning up

I knew we could not go back in the building, everything was rubbish;

Everything was gone.

 

The News Team was all over the sidewalk, everything happened so quickly, one minute everything was normal then everything turned into a crisis inside. Everything was so brand new but everything at our home felt cold; It felt like an icebox on a cold summer day.

 

The ladder pulled up by the living room. My Dad told us we could not take anything but I grabbed my doll anyway, and we stood waiting for the fireman. When my turn came the ladder look weird.

The fireman took my hand and guided me down the ladder. I reached the last step and stood on the sidewalk with my brothers and sister, while my Dad talked to the news team. It seemed like a hour passed then a big yellow cab pull up by the curb.

 

My Dad told all five of us to get in. I sat by the window. The ride was bumpy, it seemed like the cab hit every curve. I giggle but tears were rolling down my face.

I was wondering where we were all going since our house was just burned up. My Mom was not around. I understood she was not ever coming back, at least not to this house. It was all burned up, anyway it had new floors, they just crumbled like my parents’ marriage. My Mom always talked about my Dad like he was prince charming and how he had a beautiful voice and how he played the piano well; it seemed like a fantasy to me because he acted like a real grump to us. We were always getting scolded.

 

From the outside we looked picture perfect. I guess that was when I decided I was going to have fun when I grow up. No kids unless I was married and who wants to be married to an old grump anyway.

 

The cab turned on the high way, traffic was heavy. We were near a Spanish Harlem, the bodega was on every block. The cab seemed like he was in a rush, it seemed like time just stood still and I felt like I was just crawled up in a nightmare.

 

 

 

 

 

Opal Ingram - Tuck Magazine

Opal Ingram

Opal Ingram is a Poet/ Author from the Lower East Side NYC. She is Author of 4 short stories and poetry books – Black Stockings 360, Like a Rag Doll- Finding Your Purpose, Black Stockings 361 – Love Poems 40. She currently Resides In Troy, NY. Her Passion For Writing began in her childhood.

Opal Ingram also has a Facebook Poetry group, Opal Expressions Poetry aka- Poetress Mystic.

Editor review

0 Comments

No Comments Yet!

You can be first to comment this post!

Leave a Reply