Thinking of an Old Story

I was going to write about something else and then remembered a story I told one of my girls last night and thought I'd share. This is a 100% true story. This happened to me as a child and I have always sort of blown it off. There is an explanation of course and perhaps a bit of coincidence but it makes for a good story anyway.

When I was in 3rd grade and at the tender age of 8 years old my dad decided to add a room on to our home. My sisters and I all shared a bedroom. It was cramped with 3 of us. We had a bunk bed but my sister Cindi and I were just too big to share it anymore. We were so excited at the prospect of finally having this big giant room with our own beds. Our room was located right next to the kitchen. My dad tore out the wall separating the kitchen and our bedroom because he also planned on expanding the kitchen. We had a wood burning stove in our living room. I could see the kitchen and into the living room from my bed.

One night after we had all gone to bed I woke up for just a few moments. My parents kept the house pitch black. There was no night light, nothing. I hated that but when mom and dad made a rule, that was that. I rolled over and opened my eyes and saw into the living room. I saw very clearly a white glowing mist right where the wood burning stove would be. I remember it very clearly. I see it like I did then. I was scared of course being 8. I immediately assumed it was a ghost. I slammed my eyes shut thinking if I didn't see it it would go away and not be real. Then a little thought entered my mind. What if it were smoke? What if my house was burning down? I thought to myself "That won't happen to me." I fell back to sleep.

One week later my house burned to the ground. I kid you not. It was destroyed. I was in school as were my sisters. My parents room was the only room untouched. It was the room they were sleeping in. My dad threw my mom naked out the bedroom window onto a pile of glass then joined her as well. Dad's fingers were melted and they both had lots of cuts and scrapes. Mom had no voice left from smoke inhalation. But their room was perfect. You could go in there and pretend it had never happened. The smell of smoke and charred carpet is the only thing that ruined that dream. My dad burned his fingers opening his bedroom door. The fire was right there. I never forgot what I saw that night. I never knew for sure what it was. I didn't want to see it. I just wanted to sleep. I was only a kid. It's more the thought I had that has always freaked me out. I never ever let myself believe that "it won't happen to me." I haven't since and honestly my life has more than proved it can indeed happen to me.