It was a strange night, there seemed to be a chill in the air: my skirt was tangling around my soot-covered legs. I tightened my grip on Iris's hand. I felt her tense up as we walked, thinking about the ashes. It created a white fog as we approached the photo. The corner of the frame protruded from the dust and ash. Burnt tables, furniture and ceilings are scattered here and there. I slowly picked up the frame, brushing away the debris. The golden frame was still intact. Iris's lip trembled. I wanted to hug her, console her, tell her that everything will be okay, but I can't lie. I gently placed the photo in his trembling hands. I looked at my hands and they, not only covered in black ash, were shaking violently. A single layer ran down her cheek and left a clear, clean line across her darkened skin. Sirens roared far behind us. They were late, once again. It doesn't matter anyway. They will never believe it; they never will, even if it's right under their noses. The only thing the authorities will ever do is lock us up in a foster home. “I don't want to go back.” Iris whispers almost inaudibly. "Me neither." A wave of sadness and nausea hit him. "We should run." She nodded and put her hand on me. I pulled her out of the ashes. Iris clutched the frame to her chest. The sirens became more and more piercing as they got closer. I glanced at Iris for reassurance. She nodded, making her final choice. Still holding her hand, I dragged her with me. My feet tapped rhythmically against the floor. I observed my surroundings. The suburban houses looked the same in the darkness of the night. Dark, eerie trees loomed over our heads. The wind blew through the trees making them seem as if they were breathing. As time passed and we kept running, the forest s...... middle of paper ...... makes my scalp and I cry in despair. I couldn't disappoint Iris. I reached her, but I was useless. She was tied to the base of a tree. His face was covered in blood from scratches all over his face. I was right in front of her, pulling the ropes. NO! NO! I couldn't do it one more time. He was begging for help in his eyes; she was begging me to save her. He pulled and pulled. It was too late to feel anything. The roots of the tree were on fire. It burned slowly. My face burned from the heat. My hands were full of blisters. My lungs threatened to collapse. I fell to the ground sobbing and pleading. Poverty overwhelmed me. Does a person deserve this? His screams echoed in my ears. The screams continued to ring out, taunting me. This was agony. I wanted to die with her. I was useless. I realized in this moment that I don't deserve anything. Nothing but pain. And pain is what I got.