Goodbye Phoenix

The house burns quickly. I sit in the cold wet lawn. I can still hear his screams in my head, echoing over and over again. His brother sits on the lawn next to me. His face is blank as he stares at the inferno his younger brother is in.
The tears are like acid, slipping down my face. They burn worse than the fire across the street. I can feel arms around me and barely notice as I watch the flames lick higher toward the sky.
Sirens are around us. Cops and firefighters. Its too late, he’s already dead. We all know this already. Smoke billows up into the dark night sky, the flames like his hair. So feathery and wild. The orange and yellow and red.
I’m carried away, but I can still hear his screams as I ran from the house. I should have gone back. I could have gone back… But I didn’t. The burn on my arm is only a dull pain compared to that in my chest.
The smoke blinds me, my lungs already burning. I’m placed into an ambulance. The men talk to me, but I can’t hear them. I can’t hear the sirens. I can, however, hear the flames; hungry for more. They reach for the sky and the stars. The wood of the house crackles and pops. It screams in pain like he did.
I could have gone back after him, but I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t. People in tan rush about, trying to keep the fire from reaching the other houses. Others in blue and grey try to keep people away from the fire.
I watch the fire and the house, the last thing I see before they close the doors to the ambulance. But the image is scarred into my brain, like my arm. I can still see the flames. I can still smell the smoke. I can still hear the screams.