Sight:
Watching my brother stand there with a guilty look on his
face as he realizes what he’s done. Soon there’s nothing around but silhouettes
of barn equipment and flames. Looking for a way out and watching the smoke vent
out through a window that’s bursting with freedom of blue skies and brightness.
Watching as the flames creep closer when all of a sudden something, someone
comes bursting through the smoke.
Smell:
The wonderful smell of autumn throughout the air while
running through the pasture. While stepping into the barn that smelt of
gasoline and hay encircling us when soon came the familiar smell a match that
came around when our mother was to light a cigarette. Shortly things changed
and the wonderful smells turned into distant memories and became horrible
seared odors, some of which I’ve never experienced before only being four years
of age. Soon my nose began to burn and was no longer able to use my sense of
smell.
Hear:
Crackling of fire surrounding the room and the quick gasp of
fear from a little boys lungs. A terrified mother screaming for help and for
the safety of her children while crunching through the brush of the field.
Taste:
Every breath or attempt for help brings in a nasty burnt
taste of hay and dirt filling up my mouth making my tongue dry and thick. Salty
tears rolling down my face while standing there immobile. When finally broken
free of the smoky hell I’m welcomed with the taste of fresh air so soothing and
welcoming.
Touch:
Searching for a way out and finding nothing but an old splintered
barn wall, pressing my body against it hoping to find a way out. Every breath
of air is smoke clouding up my lungs creating a god awful cough making my
throat feel like I’m coughing up sand paper and trying to catch my breath with
a huge weight on my chest. Being jerked up and feeling pressure against my arms
of familiar hands, the hands of a mother. Then feeling my body hit the cold
hard ground and the fear of death for myself turning into the fear of my mother’s
safety.
