the fire was in a bright orange shade. dead bodies were scattered all over the place, and were in the way of people who were trying to escape. loud and frightened shrieks of terror, accompanied by worried cries from those who were already saved, was the catastrophic ambience of that present setting. blaring sirens and more commands put across rudely and quickly the entire line of houses that were engulfed in thick flames, with firefighters doing their best to salvage this disaster. in a split second, everything turned from worse to worst. the houses collapsed one by one, at the hand of an innocent culprit... ...

the little boy sat on the pavement quietly, with a soft toy in his arms, still cuddling it and smiling happily, unfazed by what was unfolding in front of him. he let out a dry cough. beside him, grandfather could only stare blankly at the dark sky filled with grey smoke.

years later, the little boy matured and soon realised and fully understood what clearly happened that faithful night. he regretted, and at the thought of what he had done, decided to try his best at making things better. but nobody would give him a chance - not his schoolmates, the boys at the playground, or even the only kin he has now - they all looked at him indifferently. his schoolmates decided to ignore him totally, since he had no more parents; the boys at the playground refused to let him play football with them; his grandfather... ... sometimes, he wasn't even sure his grandfather was aware of his presence at all.

on the tray, were several mints and pills, and 2 glasses of water. as the boy moved closer to grandfather who was fidgeting with a toy, he was ready for what was to come. he gave the mint to grandfather. instantaneously, he closed his eyes, covered his face with his hands in a defensive stance, and was already ready for what was to come. grandfather chewed on the mint for a while, before spitting it at the boy. the boy loosened up, served grandfather a glass of water, and returned to his defensive stance immediately. as usual, the glass of water was hurled ferociously on the floor, creating a defeaning sound as the glass shattered into pieces. the boy knew all these was coming, as it was repetitive everyday. he made his way to the kitchen, fetched the broom and the dustban, and when he returned to clear the mess, grandfather was already taking his pill and downing the glass of water. he witnessed a hard stare from his grandfather at the corner of his eye, and questioned himself why he had to go through all these trouble.

it was full moon, and the boy had just returned from work. some of his colleagues used to be inmates, and were constantly making life bad for the boy. his boss decided to dock his pay when he failed to report to work on time (only because he had lessons), and was given little food for that day as a form of punishment. he was hungry and tired, but with so much expense at hand to handle, he decided to retire for the day, hoping his hunger pangs will disappear.

when he realised his grandfather was missing, he knew the night was far from ended. he circled the neighbourhood, went to the playground, check with the patrolling officials and neighbours, but all to no avail. there was only one place he had left out - the cemetry. grandfather loved the wild dogs at the cemetry, as they were his only companions. but that night, everything changed. when the boy reached the cemetry, the gruelsome sight maimed him temporarily. as he walked slowly and painfully towards the summit where grandfather was standing, he looked at the ground in shock and despair. red blood, limbs, heads, carcasses - that of whom grandfather had once called companions. the glare from the full moon intensified on grandfather, while he continued knocking, one by one, the pitiful mammals that were hanging onto his blue jeans using their teeths. grandfather turned. he had stopped his attacks, but the terrified dogs maintained their strong protests of growls. the boy cried. grandfather became worried, and finally announced through the bad air that was polluted with fresh animal blood, "don't cry... ... come and join me." upon hearing those words, the boy went down on his knees, as he continued screaming and wailing.

the boy was revising his work in his room. he always had little or no time to revise his work, and thus, cherished times like this when grandfather was kept busy with something legal, and he was undisturbed. the breeze was perfect, the music playing on the radio suitable, and the mood to study was present. gone were the days when his mother will guide him in his math, his dad, in his technical course and physics, and his elder brother, in chemistry and literature. this unrealistic thought of it coming back was something too surreal to be true, for his family had been gone, because of... ... the boy decided to wash that thought off his mind, and continued his studies. he had tried to make things better in this home, but was never given the chance to.

he heard footsteps, then a soft click coming from his door knob. he realised what was happening. immediately, he stood up and tried to haul open the door. it was locked, and the only one in the house was his grandfather. he stopped to think - thinking of what grandfather was about to do. then the thought that came to him when he was in the midst of his revision resurfaced, making his knees buckle shakingly.

"NO.! NO.! PLEASE.!" his cries that somehow made his grandfather more excited.

the boy opened his cupboard and began foraging for something that was extremely important to him. then, he smelled smoke. the same familiar smoke he had took in that made him cough badly when he was a little boy. he knew he had little time left. he was looking for that something, most probably kept in the darkest corner of the cupboard, for fear of unpleasant reminisces. the smoke seeped through the only exposure at the boundaries of the door, and they were filling up the room fast. he continued rummaging through the contents of his cupboards like a desperate thief. then, the fire came. soon, the only air he was breathing in was fully poisonous gas.

finally, he found that slip of newspaper cutting. in his soaked hands and burnt legs, he read those words for the last time, for it meant a lot to him that he made right of what he had last read when he was a little boy. he was literally standing on fire now, but he went on to read it for the second time. he inched forward to take a closer look at the newspaper cutting for the third time. as he finished reading the last of that headline, he crumbled down onto the floor, not having anymore drive to stay in this world any longer. he fell to the floor, that old piece of paper which headline read painfully, "Retarded Grandfather Kills Family of 3 in Fire Hazard," still in his hands.