There were screams, cries for help. The murmur of the crowd that gathered in front of the blaze like they were staring at a show. One could see a glow in the eyes of the youngest ones and a terror in the eyes of the elders. Everyone was going in all directions, some with buckets of water to try to put out the fire, others with clothes, bags, and documents half crimson that they had been able to save. She hadn’t saved anything, and she was in danger of losing much more.  

She was facing the entrance of her house and kept shouting, calling her mother and father successively. She couldn’t go any further because the fire was intense. She turned around, trying to recognize her parents in the faces around, to perceive a voice that the ambient noise might have been covering, but nothing. Maybe they were trapped inside, trapped in their sleep like she was earlier. She had to go in. She began to stop passers-by, saying: “my parents are inside, they are inside” while indicating her house. But no one reacted, everyone was concerned. They also had their parent, son, mother, brother, administrative documents to save. She felt desperately lonely. She was praying inwardly, avoiding thinking about the worst. 

Did heaven listen to her? A strong wind rose — one of those that precede storms. The crowd started screaming. The wind seemed to amplify the flames. As in a wild dance, they went to the right and then to the left, in an unpredictable movement. Suddenly, a thumping noise was heard. Part of the roof of her house had just collapsed with a loud crash. She felt like she received an electric shock. She automatically ran toward the building. There was no one to stop her, and even if there was, how could they stop her? In such a short time, she had just experienced two of the most terrible feelings you could feel in a lifetime: the fear of leaving this world, on the one hand, and the fear of losing loved ones on the other. She now knew what the most difficult possibility to consider was.  

She managed to get into the house. It was sweltering there but did her senses still work? She was following that instinct that pushed her forward. Her parents were everything to her, her world, her life. She couldn’t afford to lose them. She kept shouting, calling them; she received no answer, nothing but the roar of the flames and the rumble of thunder. She couldn’t move forward, everything was on fire, everything. The collapsed roof had generated a wall of burning rubles between her and the parental room. She wanted to go up, yet the intense heat did not allow her to do so. Her body had, indeed, accepted to enter this furnace but refused to go further. The rain had started. Through the open roof, large drops fell on her. She remained motionless in front of this battle between the flames and the storm. Impassive, too scared, or resigned? Desperate? Alone… Her face was wet, and it had nothing to do with the rain.