Through The Eyes Of A Firefighter

Ahead of me a fire blazes. I feel the fire’s scorching heat as it cooks everything in its path. I know the smell of smoke is out there filling someone’s lungs as I run to save them. Their lives depend on me right now; my strength, my agility, everything has to be perfect. One second could kill someone. If I stop to tie my shoe one life could be gone. I can feel my body sweating at this unnaturally high temperature that I am making it endure. My heart goes out to the people who don’t have the protection that I do. I see two people running out of the building of which the fourth and first floors are on fire. At least they got out alive.
I hear screams and look up; a woman in her late 30’s is flailing her arms around saying that her daughter and her dog are somewhere in the house. A cherry pick, from my fellow firefighters, comes shooting up and swinging towards her. She refuses to come down; saying that her daughter and her dog are more important. She wants them saved first. I understand her thoughts completely; I have three small children at home and two dogs. Their lives come before everything to me.
A firefighter gets into the cherry pick, and lifts the woman into it with him. We are used to people declining our help, thinking that they are doing the right thing. The fire fighter restrains the distressed woman as they get safely back to the ground. She is crying, holding on to him for dear life.
I get into the apartment and run up to the rooms on fire. I look for any people that are in need of my help. Nothing stirs except for the fire that rages on. I can hear the forceful spray of water shooting onto the sides of the building. I hear my radio beep, and someone is yelling a code. I cannot distinguish what code it is but I know that I have to get out of the apartment as fast as I can. I hear a crash as a lamp goes flying to the ground and turn around. I find a dog licking the face of a small girl. The dog turns to me and barks, attempting at protecting the child. I grab him, and the girl screams. I attempt at telling her that I am going to save them both, but my voice is muffled by the mask around my face. I hold her too, as I get them both out of the hot smoke filled room.
With both the dog and the girl in my arms, I run through the building. I get outside and I go straight to the ambulance. Next to me, another firefighter is holding an elderly woman that cannot walk properly. Then I hear another firefighter say that there are no longer any people in the building. The mother of the girl comes running to me saying that I am her hero; that I saved her daughter’s life. I completely understand her relief; I would be just as grateful if it were my child. I thank her, but inside I remember how scared I was. I begin to think of what would have happened if I had not found them in time, if I was not able to save that little girl and her dog. I stop; the horrible possibilities were endless.
The fire has died down`, and only one hose is needed to finish the job. Investigators and news crews are running around, and one stops near me. The news reporter looks at me:
“Any deaths or injuries?” she asks me, sticking her large black microphone in my face.
“No casualties.” I say.
“Susan, there are some people who want to talk to you.” One of the firefighters is calling me. I turn around and walk to the mother of the girl I just saved. She thanks me again, this time with five other people thanking me as well. I smile, happy that all my training paid off and I saved someone’s life.

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