FIRES OF MEMORIES by M.D. Olaoye

Fire of Memories by M.D. Olaoye

I HAD BEEN SITTING on the couch with a bag of potato chips aimlessly scrolling through the TV channels when I heard the explosion. I turned to the kitchen and saw the flickering flares of reds and oranges and other colors that I didn’t even know existed. I sprang up from the couch and took the stairs two at a time to my room. I grabbed the large duffel bag that was a stow away under my bed and began frantically shoving in random items. I wasn’t sure how much time I had left before the fire found its way out the kitchen, let alone give itself a full house tour, but I needed to hurry up. Before any real fear took hold of me, I sprinted to my sister’s old room where I kept the things I didn't trust myself with. On the bedside table, there was a framed photograph with a picture of my mom. She was wearing a blue school uniform blazer, with a white tie. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t frowning either; it was sort of in between, like she couldn’t decide which to do. Her hair was done into a low ponytail with two hair clips on either side. It was one of the few pictures I actually had of the woman because, like me, she was not a fan of cameras in her face. I carefully placed the picture in the side pocket of my duffel bag and moved on to the next section of the room: the closet. The smell of burning wood clawed at me and I knew I would have to set aside time to mourn the loss of my wooden center table in the living room. There was only one thing I really cared about in this closet. I moved all the other clothes on hangers out of the way until I reached the very back of the closet. My heart dropped for a second when I didn’t feel the familiar fuzzy material of my purple sweater, but I let out a relieved sigh when I realized it had fallen on the floor. I picked it up by the hole in the right sleeve. I don’t really remember how it got there, but there’s always been a voice in my head telling me it was no reason to throw it out. A sudden crash snapped me out my thoughts and I quickly shoved the sweater into the bag and continued my mission. I could feel the heat licking my face and I wiped the sweat off my cheeks. The fire was getting closer, and I was playing a dangerous game by still being in this room. But I needed to get