Descriptive Essay House on Fire

descriptive essay house on fire The House on Fire That cold night of December 2004 had left behind a memory which will stay in my mind for a never ending period of time. That night was not the same as the rest of the days in my life. Instead of going to bed, that night I was standing in the middle of the road, in complete terror. My heartbeat was accelerating with fear and tears were rolling down my cheeks as I saw Emily taken away by the ambulance. The house, which I was standing in front of, was burning as fire engulfed it from all sides. There was fire everywhere.

The roof was on fire, the doors and the windows were on fire, fire was even coming out of the house through various openings, looking like a fire-breathing dragon was inside the house, puffing fire. The flames burned deep red and amber, almost livid purple as I saw various firefighters trying to put out the fire. Nothing inside was likely to survive the fire. Flames were licking up in the air with the wind, trying to catch something else on fire, and finding nothing but air, disappearing into the windy night, like disappointed flutters. Everything was happening too fast.

During a minute or less, fire had spread across the entire landing. I was petrified by the sight of the fire, which crawled lizard like up the house. The house was exploding in yellow blue flames that quickly turned orange. I was trembling and whimpering softly as I saw Emily’s mother sitting on the ground, helplessly. She was crying out of despair. Her reaction had made me even more scared. I wanted someone to console me by telling me that nothing will happen to Emily. She was my best friend. We had spent seven years of our childhood together and I did not want to lose her.

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I was praying silently while Emily’s mother had lost all the hope of her survival. I had never felt so alone before. Even the thought of losing her, frightened me. I felt as if I was living through the worst nightmare. Grief is the worst feeling in the world. You feel hopeless, scared, angry, frustrated, alone and afraid. Going through a phase in life when you have a feeling of losing someone is hard to accept and it is much harder for an eight years old child. You feel as if the world had stopped and you could never move on in life.

It is very painful to accept that you will no longer be able to see someone who was very close to the heart. I was crying while looking at the crowd of people that had clustered around the house by that time. The voices of the people echoed in my ear hauntingly. Their screams and shouts gave rise to my fear. I was horrified by the siren of the ambulance, the police car and the firefighters, the ringing of the phones of the crowd, the yelling, the cries, the increasing roar of the fire; everything added chaos to that place and frightened me even more.

Ghosts of smoke were drifting across the street. I smelled smoke. It was not heavy, but it had a pungent smell. I started to cough as the smoke enfolded me. The air surrounding me was becoming less breathable by the second. My mouth was filled with the bitter taste of the smoke. I wanted a draught of clean air to rinse out my polluted lungs. The cough had aggravated pain in my head. My eyes were becoming swollen and watery. Soon after, the fire got quite out of control as the whole house was on fire. The firefighters evacuated the street and told everyone to go inside their houses.

I had no choice but to retreat to my room where I could see, feel, and hear Emily’s house burn down. In a few minutes, the house had been reduced to a pile of rubble, ashes, and smouldering wood and items. There was a rotting smell that took over the whole neighbourhood, like a bad barbeque party gone horribly wrong. The smell was so overpowering that it took almost a week to get it out of my nose. That horrifying night of December still reminds me how valuable a person is in our life. If the firefighters were even one minute late in rescuing Emily, I would have lost my best friend that day.

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