Little Moments (Second Chances 2)

Roman

THE SMELL OF SMOKE burns my nostrils. The faint cry of my mother’s screams echoes from behind the walls. Is this a dream? Mom, where are you?

Moving my sleepy fingers awake, I slowly open my eyes to darkness. The distant moonlight is grasping to shine inside my bedroom. As my eyes open wide, I see a haze of smoke surrounding me. Sitting up in bed, my hand reaches out to feel it. The siren of fire trucks grows louder.

My lungs begin to burn as smoke fills them. I buckle down and cough, gasping for clean air. Fear creeps along the back of my neck as the hair stands still.

“Mom!”

I quickly jump out of bed and immediately feel the heat on my bare feet. Whoa, that’s hot! Remembering what I learned in school, I try to stay low to the ground. Slowly crawling to the window, I try to open it, but the lock is too tight for me to pry.

The heat from inside is getting hotter and hotter. Beads of sweat start to trickle down my face. I can’t see anything. It’s too dark.

My panic builds. Banging on the window, I cry, “Somebody help me!” The heat on the window burns slightly, but I ignore the pain.

I look out the window to see three fire trucks pull up beside the apartment building. Firefighters race to the hydrants to connect the water hose as others rush into the building. Police cars make their way alongside the building as well.

Sudden screams startle me, jolting me away from the window. Mom?!

Keeping low, I crawl to my bedroom door and tap the knob to see if it’s hot. Sudden heat tingles my skin, so I turn around to try to find something to protect my hand. Feeling my way along the floor, I pick up what feels like a t-shirt and head back toward the bedroom door.

The smoke in my room gets thicker and makes it harder to breath. Constantly coughing, I make my way to the door to twist open the knob. Pushing it open, I see flames cover the living room and its walls.

Pictures of my mom and me, plants, furniture—everything I see is burning. Standing up quickly and shielding myself, I yell out, “Mom! Where are you?”

“Roman! Oh, thank God you’re all right!”

Frantically, I look around to see her, but the flames blind my vision. “Mom, I can’t see you.”

“I’m in the foyer; I’m coming to get you! Stay where you are. Keep low baby, keep low!”

Bits of the ceiling crash into the living room, engulfing the room in flames. Heat rises, flames grow higher, panic builds inside. I’m scared.

A heavy pounding crashes into the apartment’s front door. The muffled sounds of deep voices carry from the other side of it. The pounding continues until a firefighter crashes through the door. I can’t help but scream.

The firefighter grabs hold of me. “Are you okay kid? Where’s your family?” He quickly inspects my arms and legs for any signs of injury or burns.

I point toward the back of the apartment. “My mom is back there and she’s on her way.”

He nods his head. “Let’s get you out of here.”

He says into his radio, “This is Rivera. I have two residents on the sixth floor in need of extraction. I have one with me now.”

Another voice responds through the radio, “On my way, Rivera.”

He wraps what looks like a blanket around my body and tells me, “This will prevent you from getting burned.”

I nod my head. “Thank you.”

“Roman!”

Turning around, I see my mother reaching us. She pulls me into her arms. “Oh, thank you, thank you. I’m so happy you’re all right.”

I see tears spill out of her eyes as I ask, “What took you so long Mom?’