~*articulate what forever smoulders*~
You realize about two blocks away that all your stuff is back there. Burning. Everything you own is slowly crackling and being consumed, and you are now, essentially, guilty of arson.
Oh, crap.
The next few blocks you take in peoples backyards, darting over tree stumps and fences, climbing over trampolines and slides. Looking back over your shoulder reveals a spreading blaze - the overhanging eaves on your neighbors house must have caught, and the old, near-dead oak tree is nothing more than kindling now. You hear fire sirens, and seeing the fire spread, know it won't be enough. You can see it from here, after all, and the smoke seems to follow you, accusing.
You're a criminal, and you have nothing to go back to. Mixed in with those sirens you can almost hear your father's wailing. Maybe a murderer, too.
Maybe.
Oh, crap.
The next few blocks you take in peoples backyards, darting over tree stumps and fences, climbing over trampolines and slides. Looking back over your shoulder reveals a spreading blaze - the overhanging eaves on your neighbors house must have caught, and the old, near-dead oak tree is nothing more than kindling now. You hear fire sirens, and seeing the fire spread, know it won't be enough. You can see it from here, after all, and the smoke seems to follow you, accusing.
You're a criminal, and you have nothing to go back to. Mixed in with those sirens you can almost hear your father's wailing. Maybe a murderer, too.
Maybe.