My high pitched squeal echoed through the house as I bounced backwards on my father’s shoulder. He ran through the house, dodging corners of the hall by inches. My mother followed slowly behind us, shaking her head and giggling at my father’s childish actions. He spun me around in a circle, the world around me caught in a blur of colors. Then I felt the soft cushion of my mattress break my fall as my dad dropped me from his shoulder.
“And she sticks the landing!” my father cheered, throwing up his hands in a ‘touchdown’ fashion.
“Goodnight, sweet pea, I love you,” my mom giggled, walking towards my bed. She leaned down, stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. “Happy birthday”.

“Goodnight mum, I love you too,” I replied as I pulled the covers up under my chin, feeling the soft touch of the blanket resting on top of the comforter. My dad came over to my bedside and sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing out the blanket with his big hand.

“How does it feel being the big 8 years old?” he asked. He moved his hands in a way to make them like a spider and started tickling my sides. More squeals of laughter escaped my mouth as I tossed and turned, trying to get away from the tickling fingers.

“I don’t feel any different, at least I don’t think I do”, I answered, pushing his hands away so he would stop the tickle fest. Little chuckles escaped my dad as he grabbed my small fragile hand in his strong large ones.

“How come you don’t think so? I think you look much older, if I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were 21,” He said, his deep blue eyes set into my green ones.

“21?! Dad your crazy! I’m not that old!” I said as I let out a few chuckles.

“Right, right I'm just teasing you, happy birthday princess”, he said as he started to rise from the bed and leaned down and gave me a kiss on the forehead. He went to the white door and right before flipping down the light switch, he said,” Sky, I love you so much. ”

I looked at him with my sleepy gaze and smiled, “I love you too dad.”

A loving smile crossed his face, “Good night love bug,” he said and flicked off the lights. I rolled over on my side and pulled the covers up more over my face so the top of the blanket was halfway up my head. My eyes escaped outside the window, looking at the white blinds that closed the dark, outside world. I could feel my eyelids slowly starting to close.

Suddenly, heat started to enclose around me. I awoke to black smoke choking my throat, making it ever so hard to breathe. I flew out of my bed and immediately lay on the ground, my stomach rubbing on the stringy carpet. I crawled quickly to the door, and gratefully remembering the fire escape drill my mom made me do one summer, placed my hand on the door. The door was burning to the touch, and I yanked my hand away from the hot wood.
“I’m trapped. SOMEONE HELP!” I screamed, hoping someone would hear my desperate cry, but the dense smoke suffocated my throat. I coughed and covered my hand over my nose and mouth, blocking it from the gas that was slowly creeping into my room. I looked around my small room, my vision being clouded by the tears gathering in my eyes. My eyes locked with the window on the opposite side of the room. I lay down on the ground and started army crawling towards the window.
The air was thick with smoke, making my throat tight and raspy. Getting to the window seemed like it took ages. Finally, I reached the glass and rose up the blinds that were in front of it. I tried to lift the thick glass but the latch was locked, making it impossible for me to escape.
I started to panic. My eyes darted to and fro the room trying to find something, anything to help me break out of this gas chamber. My eyes were caught on something shiny, my aluminum softball bat. I grabbed the bat that was lying on my toy chest, my hands shaking with every move. With one giant swing, I shattered the window into millions of pieces. Glass shards flew through the air, hitting my small frame, cutting my face in tiny scratches. Brushing off pieces of glass from my penguin pajamas, I dropped the bat and started out the window. Through all of the nervous shaking I mustered a laugh. “Ha, who says I can’t hit a home run now”, I smirked, thinking of all the people who said I was small and weak.

I suddenly froze in my tracks. I had a feeling that I was forgetting something. I looked around the smoke covered room, whisking my eyes to and fro, trying to find that missing piece my mind was calling for. A green frame with a picture of my dad, my mom and me sat on my dresser right next to my window. I ran over to it and took the frame in my hands. My arms were wrapped tightly around the picture as I jumped out of the window and ran into my front yard. I turned to see my house, engulfed in flames, and burning with an intense amount of light.

Something isn’t right, I thought to myself as I stood facing my burning house. Wait… my body was stiff. “MOM! DAD!” I screamed as I started sprinting towards the house. Right as I got within 50 yards of the front door, the whole house blew up in front of me, causing me to stop right in my tracks and reel back from the intense heat.

“HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!” I yelled repeatedly, tears rolling down my cheeks, hoping in the end, someone would hear my small, fragile voice. Footsteps sounded to my right and I turned to see my fat, old neighbor running towards me, her phone gripped tightly in her hand.

“Skylar! Back away from there!” she yelled as she enclosed her arms around me and pulled me back from the burning flames.

I wiggled free of her grasp and grabbed my picture that way lying on the ground nearby. I grabbed it and hugged it tightly to my chest. The tears spilled down my face as my neighbor held me in her arms. Her grip was tight around me, but I felt so vulnerable and exposed.

I looked down at the picture in my hands. The soft smile played on my mother’s face as she held a baby version of me in her lap, her sweet eyes trained on me. My father’s eyes were filled with laughter also as he looked down at me in my mother’s lap, his smile covered in the rough stubble he use to tickle my face with. Use to. They were gone. I lost them in the flames. I was now alone. My head fell and the tears streamed down my cheeks. Two silent drops escaped their paths and landed on the picture I held in my hands, dropping on the faces of the ones I just lost.