It was a strange night, there seemed to be a chill in the air: my skirt was wrapping around my soot-covered legs. I tightened my grip on Iris's hand. I felt her tense as we walked through the ashes. This created a white fog as we got closer to the photo. Dust and ashes protruded from the corner of the frame. Tables, furniture, burnt ceilings are scattered everywhere. I picked up the frame slowly, brushing off the debris. The golden frame was still intact. Iris's lip quivered. I wanted to hug her, comfort her, tell her everything will be okay, but I can't lie. I gently placed the photo in his trembling hands. I looked at my own hands and they - not only covered in black ash - were shaking violently. A single level ran down her cheek and left a clear, pale line on her dark skin. The sirens were roaring far behind us. They were late again. Either way, it doesn't matter. They will never believe us; they will never do it, even if it is under their noses. The only thing the authorities will do is lock us up in a foster family. “I don’t want to go back. » Iris whispers almost inaudibly. "Me neither." A wave of sadness and nausea hit. “We should run.” She nodded and placed her hand in mine. I pulled her out of her ashes. Iris hugged the frame to her chest. The sirens grew louder as they got closer. I glanced at Iris to reassure myself. She nodded, making her final choice. Still holding her hand, I dragged her with me. My feet rhythmically pounded the sidewalk. I observed my surroundings. The suburban houses looked the same in the darkness of the night. Dark, haunting trees loomed overhead. The wind blew through the trees, making it seem like they were breathing. As time passed and we continued to run, the forest ended up in the middle of a paper... on my scalp and I cried in despair. I couldn't let Iris down. I reached her, but I was useless. She was tied to the base of a tree. His face was covered in blood from the scratches all over his face. I was right in front of her, pulling on the ropes. NO! No! I couldn't do that again. She begged for help in her eyes; she begged me to save her. She pulled and pulled. It was too late to try anything. The roots of the tree were on fire. It burned slowly. My face burned from the heat. My hands were on fire. My lungs were in danger of collapsing. I fell to the ground sobbing and begging. Misery overwhelmed me. Does anyone deserve this? His screams rang in my ears. The screams kept ringing out, taunting me. It was agony. I wanted to die with her. I was useless. I realized at that moment that I didn't deserve anything. Nothing but pain. And pain is what I have.