FIRE 

By Tessa Harvey

    I am lying on a very hard floor and I cannot breathe. Nothing coming into my lungs - nothing going out. Spots dance before my eyes. There is some grey stuff swirling around which is not helping me to breathe. Beyond that, it is dark. Black. I panic.
    A small memory comes to me. Buddy and I are laughing about some joke. Dad next door is yelling "Be quiet!" It is early morning.
    Suddenly, in the middle of us laughing, my brother yanks my arm to be funny. As it is unexpected, I lose my balance on top bunk and hurtle past Buddy and hit the floor so hard my parents come running at the loud bang.
    Dad strokes my stomach. "Puff," he commands, "now puff in a little bit...slowly."
    I am winded then - and now, so I try to follow the same instructions. Air is sucked in and I almost can breathe - and remember.

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