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Expressive stories for adults: The story of a fire that broke out in a neighbor's house

Welcome, visitors to our website, stories and anecdotes, we tell them to you today Expressive stories for adults. A fire broke out in a neighbor's house. We hope you like it, and for more information you can follow and read this the story .

Story written by: the teacher Hani Mohamed Naguib

It was almost ten o'clock in the evening when I lay down on my back and tried to close my eyelids to sleep, but I was startled by the voice of a woman crying and screaming and lamenting how lucky she was. I jumped in fear, searching for the source of the sound, and then I saw my mother running towards the neighbor's house. I ran after her...screaming, wait for me... ..

As soon as I arrived at the neighbors' house, I was shocked, with tears in my eyes, and my heart was devastated to see a huge fire that broke out and its flames invaded the neighbors' house, this house that I considered my home as my second, a house that has always been vibrant with life, but today it is destroyed in front of me by a merciless fire.

I looked around, searching for my friend. I was afraid that he was in the middle of this struggle between death and life, and between survival and annihilation. I began to scan the place with my gaze, and while searching for him, my eyes fell on many terrified faces, regretting this disaster. I noticed a little girl broken down, crying, hoping it would go away. Her tears were this fire. I held her hand and took a little look at the house, but I couldn't stand this sight, I hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear in my voice bass: Don't be afraid and don't be sad.

She looked at me with tears streaming down her cheeks like burning embers. She suddenly shouted: No.. No.. Why my house... Why?? Ah.. Ah.. If my mother hadn't left that oven on, it wouldn't have burned.. She was silent for a moment and looked innocently around the house like a child crying over losing its embrace. beloved, while crying inwardly, regretting and suffering for having lost him.

I can't forget those tears that flowed in her eyes like crystal pearls. I placed my hands on her cheeks, wiped her tears and said with a smile: It's no one's fault... and I began to console her, perhaps to relieve her feelings. suffering.

At that time, the men of the neighborhood were gathering, with my father and a large crowd of firefighters, trying by all means to put out the fire. All worked on the heart of one man and they were united in a common goal, which was to eliminate the tongues of fire which multiplied and spread like heads of serpents which spread their venom everywhere. .

Hour after hour, everyone rushes and participates with determination and enthusiasm to eliminate the fire that prevented young and old from entering the house without destroying it and sending it back into the world of oblivion.

Feelings of sadness and sorrow appear on the faces of the owners of the house, tears flowing over memories erased and become in the world memories, hopes and ambitions hidden forever.

But I stand there, looking at the house, unable to speak, I give way to these tears and these feelings which strive to express the intensity of my regrets and my sadness in the face of this incident.

I saw our neighbor cry and try to pick up what was left of the rubble of that house, and a child try to remove the ashes from her toys and books and put them back as they were, even though she knew that this was impossible.

A father bangs his head against the walls and wipes away that darkness with his hand, crying over the loss of his home. Truly, these scenes cannot be described in words.

Once things calmed down, I entered the house and walked among the tongues of foul-smelling smoke that were trying to kill the remaining living things inside this place, which had become like remnants and vanished ruins . the damage and destruction that the fire had left behind, I touched those walls and extinguished the struggling tongues of flame.

My friend's family stayed with us and my friend was with me in my room. He stayed all night watching from my bedroom balcony overlooking their dark house, crying heartbroken, lost in his grief and sadness, bidding farewell to his home. , in which the most beautiful memories, hopes and ambitions were engraved, and which were burned with these walls.

After several days, our neighbors left for a new house that the government had given them in place of their home. I said goodbye to them, drawing a smile of false hope of their separation, and I promised my friend in the hope of meeting.