I sat on the grass with my knees pulled up to my chest. The cold air pricked my skin, my nose filled with the smell of smoke. Ash landed on my bare shoulders, making me look like a drawing. The moon was the only thing illuminating my figure. The only thing that witnessed what I had done and had not yet reprimanded me for it. My brother ran around the burning house screaming for our mother. He had already let me have it for being such an idiot. For not paying attention.
My eyes dripped tears, knowing that it was at fault. That he was right. I was an idiot. I should have paid attention. The candle had fallen onto the shag carpet and caught flames, quickly spreading as the household slept soundly. I didn't think it was that big of a deal, the candle was secured on the metal stand. The wind wasn't even that strong. If anything it would have put out the candle that sat by the open window.
My brother's voice began to crack, coming undone with no sight of our mother. His savior. Our mother. The woman I never wanted to hurt, and yet, ended up putting her into a flaming building.
I stood quickly and looked toward the orange flames. They roared in my face, burning my eyelashes and making me turn a pink color. I stepped closer, holding my breath and walking through the flames in search of anything that would lead me to my mother. The flames burnt my flesh, making me bite my lip harshly at the pain, screaming through my teeth. My eyes laid on my mother's body, charred and hot. I was going to join her soon, succumbing to the same fate that she had. I deserved it. I accepted the fact before I was yanked from the fire and thrown to the ground, my brother taking my place.
“Death is too good for you!” he yelled, hugging our mother's body as he was soon devoured by the flames
He was right, death was too good for me. I must pay by living. By attending their funerals and burying them. By attempting to survive without them.