Some memories never fade; they burn in your mind like the fire I ran through as a kid to save a little girl. Over twenty years later, I was staring at an old photo from that night—on my new boss Linda’s desk. But why did she have it? The answer would change everything.
When I was 12, I risked my life to rescue a young girl from a burning house. That single act bound our lives together in ways I never could’ve imagined.
The nightmares still come. Even after 23 years, I find myself back in the fire, choking on smoke, hearing a terrified child’s cries echoing through the flames. Her desperate calls for her parents still send chills down my spine.
It was a summer evening when I saw the smoke on Maple Street while biking home. Dropping my bike, I sprinted toward the fire, ignoring Mrs. Chen’s shouts to stay back.
I climbed through a basement window, feeling glass tear at my jersey. Inside, the heat was intense, but I followed the faint sound of a little girl’s coughs through the thick smoke.
Under a desk, I found her—a small, frightened girl covered in soot and tears. I promised to get her out, lifting her in my arms as I navigated back. Firefighters reached us just as we made it to the window, and in a blur, we were pulled to safety.
After that, she left with the paramedics, and life moved on.
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