Dragon of My Heart

The fire licked up in my eyes as I stared in awe as my house desintegrated into a mere pile. "This can't really be how my life is supposed to go." I said to myself, trying to make sure nobody could hear my words of hatred. Life had been so nice before, with my brother home from college on break and my dad finally finding a job that he could hold at least the next eight months. Eveything seemed to be nice and smooth. Other then a few little issues every now and then about who gets to get the car for the night, my soul was at peace. I was thinking back to just yesterday when my mouth got the better of me and words from the devil spewed off my tounge into my brother's mind. "How could I have been so heartless?" I thought to myself. "He had been going through so much pain the last four months since our mother passed because of a drunk driver." I tried to take my words of smite back but it was too late. The damage had been done. This morning I awoke to the smell of smoke which was usual because I knew daily my dad needed to blow off some steam, but something was different. This smell was nearly pouring into my room by the bucket full and captivating my breath. "No, NO!" I yelled as I screamed for my family to feel relief that they were ok. I heard my father's voice but my brother's was very soft. He must be losing air, and quickly. I screamed for help but my voice just echoed out my window into a pit of darkness. We were all scrambling to find the door to our freedom but it was blocked by a a piece of flaming wood that must have fallen from the ceiling. My dad yelled for us to check the window but as I grabbed the one closest to me I shrieked in agony as I was burned. The only one that was able to be opened was the one in my father's room. "I'm free!" I wanted to yell it as I stepped into clean air. As I turned to see my family I remembered my brother's rough tone in the house. His difficulty in speaking resulted from the smoke rising into his lungs at a much greater speed then my father's and mine. He was on the ground, gagging for air and holding his chest in pain. I rushed over, trying to help him catch his breath while my father called the fire department. He told me that no matter what happened he loves me and forgives my evil doings from the other day. I reassured him, and myself, that help was coming and that everything would be better. He grabbed my hand and with one finally squeeze, he released his breath from his lungs one, last time. By this time I was screaming, hitting his chest, trying to make him come back. My father pulled me away, and I slowly fell into the ash covered ground. I heard the sirens in the distance but it was too late. That wicked dragon of fire took my heart and I won't ever get it back, for I lost much more then just a brother. I lost my life.