Getting closer to investigate, I ripped away the things I had placed there, such as my toy vanity mirror, a lot of my stuffed animals, my shoe rack, my old plastic closet door… I had managed to put my old wooden high chair there too, but that must have been the first thing burned. Throwing all these things to the side, I screamed as I was knocked to the floor by something falling on me as the last barricade was moved.

I did the lobster walk as fast as I could to back away from whatever had come crashing down on me. I got comfortably far enough away and peered at it for a better look. Next to the mass was a melted plastic spatula, something wrapped around it. I crawled on my hands and knees to try and figure out what.

I poked it, not really knowing what to do. Examining this large black thing, a purely horrific though struck my (at the time) very infantile mind. Seeing as I was seven, you must imagine how I was feeling. I finally realized what had fallen on me.

The scorched skeleton of my dear Uncle Joey lay there, boney and roasted fingers clutching the once favorite breakfast spatula. I stared, no immediate reaction I could think of seemed appropriate.

I tell you this story from my pretty white room with the lovely view of iron bars and the ocean. They let you jump on the bed all you want, you don’t have to worry about disturbing anyone. You should come visit me sometime.. and bring me my bunny slippers please.. I left them at home yesterday and my feet are cold..