Part 1 : Flames that Burn

The blur, the light, the smoke, the flames. I'd start from the beginning but there is none. There is nothing left but the fire that's destroying my home. The fire that was started with no cause. I am left sitting here. I don't dare look behind me. I only look down listening to the cracks of the fire, the engines of the planes fighting it and the people yelling at each other in panic. I can hear their conversations, too. .

"I told you to get the hose!" A woman who sounds about thirty-five yells. An older man yells back, "It was too late Clair! By time I found it, it'd be up in flames!" He sounded more annoyed than worried. So did she. I hear a young child crying. Male, about six or seven at most. I want so badly to comfort him but I would regret looking up, even if for a second.

Then, I feel someone's hand touch and pull my wings as if seeing if they were real. 

"That hurts." I say, my voice is low and scratchy, "let go." They obey and apologize. Female voice. Early forties. I can hear more children crying. Even some adults are too. The fire must be getting worse. Even through the light it shown, I can tell it's night. I wish I can watch the calming stars, the brightened moon as it slowly makes it's way across the dark, violet, night. If only. .