Thread: Dear Hero...
09-01-2003, 04:12 PM #1
- Join Date
- Mar 2003
I found this on a website and thought, what would the finishing (or editing) be like if it were (re)written by firefighters.
I saw you yesterday as you searched for those two children in the dark, smoke infested hallway. The smoke had brought you to your knees to contine into the search. Your partner following closely behind as your five minute search turned into ten. Pleading in your mind to find these children.
A piece of the ceiling fell in front, adding more precious minutes to the search as you climbed over. The heat was building up and already you could feel the leather on your helmet beginning to bubble.
Your hands were your searching tools and your mind enclosed in a blank mascarade. Every bump on the floor and every bit of furniture you thoroughly inspected; hoping you hadn't missed anything.
Smoothing the area with your hand, another bump, this time a child's leg. Gently gathering up the child in your arms, you took your mask off to give a fresh breath of oxygen. Your partner doing the same for the second child. The search was now beginning to find a window to quickly pass the children out of this smoky atmosphere.
Quckily, running to the side of the room where the square sign of light was pouring through, the mini blinds were melted, revealing bars attached on the outside. You turned to see your partner who's expression was near the same as yours. All the windows had the bars, the only way out was where you came in.
While heading down the stairs, following after your partner, you picked up the radio to explain the unfolding situation. The seconds were ticking of how long the building would hold and how much air was left. A startling sound rang through the air as you looked to your partner, the bell that signaled less than a minute of air.Keep American Clean, Eat Pigeons!
09-03-2003, 06:05 PM #2
- Join Date
- Feb 2003
maybe something like this?
In his hand, he held a light.
It was of no use to him on this smokey, fiery night.
His other hand swept the floor with urgency and skill,
"Seeing" his way by experience and touch.
Working his way in with nothing to hold onto but his dedication and will.
Blocking out the pops and cracks and the fire's roar.
Never once thinking, that, for someone in here,
The smoke and heat could be too much?
Searching for the little sounds, the cough, the cry,
Or even some rustling on the floor.
The acrid smoke grew stronger, as the flames grew longer.
The searing heat pushing him lower.
As the fire worked to quell it's appetite.
With his bell now ringing, and all his senses screaming,.
"Get out Now, before it's too late!"
But the thought of losing an innocent one, pushes him forward,
Determined not to let them go to this horrible fate.
On his final sweep before leaving,
His hand came to rest on something soft and breathing.
Knowing at once that this is what he had come for.
He picked the babe up into his arms, to keep him safe from the harm,
That was now, singing his neck.
The useless light would be of use at last;
As he threw it at the window, breaking the glass.,
Knowing his brothers would see it,
And the child would be passed,
From Hell to safety,
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