Burning Memories
It all began a few nights ago now-yes- that's right...a few nights. Or was it more, or less? At this point I can't be sure, I'm not sure of anything anymore. I’m not even sure if I can even trust my own self. After these traumatic, yet thrilling experiences I believe I've been driven to madness. The type of madness that starts out small, like a fire then continues to grow until finally it's out of control and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Like the fire...the fire that enveloped my home, while everyone and everything I ever loved had been inside, and all I could do was stand and watch while my whole life burned into ashes. Smoldering fire licked the house like a hungry kitten with a saucer of milk, crackling, gentle at first. Then soon fire flickered, flared, leapt, spit a shower of sparks like a fountain, and plumes of black grey smoke rose from inside. It wound itself around the house like a great serpent, devouring everything in its path. I choked on clouds of noxious smoke as it filled my eyes and I could no longer see. The inferno, now blazing, out of control, as ash floated to the ground like great dirty flakes of snow, showering onto everything, sprinkling onto the ground.
         Once I began to realize what was happening I began to, stumble over my own feet in an attempt to get anywhere with a phone. I got to our neighbors front door and began to bang on it screaming for help. They flung the door open and I pushed by almost falling to the ground in a frantic attempt to get to a phone. I dialed  911 and as soon as I heard a voice on the other side I began to wail, "Help. Please help. Fire." I couldn't even get on an address not that I could remember what it was at the time. By that time my neighbors had realized what was happening and tried their best to comfort me. We stood out on the porch and watched helplessly until we saw red and blue lights and heard screaming sirens.
         There were no bodies to be found... barley any house left once they stopped the fire. That night I stayed at the neighbors, I had nowhere else to go.
         The police came later that day asking questions about the fire- if I knew how it started. They asked, “How many people were in the house?”, and ,”Where were you and why weren't you  in the house at the time?” But I was of no use to them, I couldn't give them an answer...I didn't know...I didnt remember. It seemed so distant now, so far away, almost as if it never even happened. After a day or two I finally came to grips with the reality of what had happened.  I became convinced that this fire was no accident. It was meant to happen, a murder had done this- made it look like an accident. This I became sure of.
I became obsessed and crazed with the idea of finding out who had done this and would go to any length to make sure they received the punishment they deserved. I already devised the the perfect plan. I would find them and make them suffer as much as they made me and my family suffer. I would find them, find their home, where they lived and the people they loved. I would make them watch helplessly as their house burned down with everything they loved inside.Then I would burn them too, so they would know how it feels to have your flesh slowly burn off of your body, and smell the horrible stench as the smoke and poisonous gases filled their lungs, and fire comes from the ground stinging  their eyes. Until they could breath longer and felt the life leaving their body, knowing their desperate attempts to become free from the fire that encaptured them had been of no use.
But before any of that could happen, I would need to find out who it was. Who would possibly want to try and hurt my family and why would they want to do it? What horrible crime had they committed against another person to cause them to want to kill? I wouldnt sleep, wouldn’t eat until I completed my mission of discovering the killer. I started with people I knew, family friends and other family members. Asked them where they were that night, who they were with, and what they had been doing. I took close note in my memory of every little detail and wrote them all down later, making sure not to leave anything out. I needed to check up on all of their alibis. After asking other people and checking with businesses and other co-workers I discovered that all of their stories were true and their alibis had checked out. I didn't understand I must have missed something. Interviewed the wrong person got the facts all jumbled up in my confused brain. I couldn't think straight I wasn't sure what I was even feeling. A possible mixture of sadness, anger, rage and fear. I had to find the killer to get revenge and I couldn't do it by myself. The only people that could help me at the time would be the police but they would ask me more questions that I currently did not have answers to.
I decided that I would go anyway-the need to get revenge overcame the fear of the men in uniform. I went to the station and told them I suspected foul play, I said, “I don't believe the fire at my place of residence was an accident. I believe the fire was set in order to kill my family.” They looked at me like I was crazy, but told me they would put someone on the case. But I know what that means...no ones going to be “put on the case”, they just told me that for my own good-to make me feel better.Then as I had suspected they began to ask questions, they came flying at me faster than I could comprehend. Many nights without sleep had left me drowsy and confused and I just stared blankly at them while they continued to throw questions at me. I tried to listen, tried to remember, thinking about it brought back memories of red and yellow flames whipping around the place I once called home. Then something else, something new, a memory I wasn't even aware of before, one I didn't know I had. Then more and more memories began to flooded my thoughts I couldn't think straight,  I didn't have control of my own body. I got up and ran, ran for my life, my eyes blurred with tears, tripping and stumbling, sticking my arms out in hopes to catch myself.
I ran to my neighbors, grabbed the extra gasoline they kept in the garage along with a lighter. I then proceeded to do what I knew had to be done. I dumped all of the gasoline on my head, dousing my whole body with a thin, sticky, layer of gas. I took the lighter and lit it, putting the hot flame against my body and in an instant burst into flames. I had finally gotten what I had wanted- the killer got to smell and feel their own flesh burning off their body, and lungs inhaling smoke as fire filled their eyes. I had finally gotten what I wanted. I had finally gotten reven...