This story is based on one of my favourite songs. It's called Four Minute Warning by Mark Owen. It's not as sad as this story. The song itself is quite lively. But still it's inspiration. XD

Hope you enjoy! XD

What would you do with a four minute warning?

Four minutes:

I can't believe I've only got four minutes left to live. It's not fair. I could have done so much more if I had just a little more than four minutes! What have I done to deserve this? Why am I dying? Why? I have done nothing to deserve this? Does anyone? Think about it, does anyone actually deserve to die? No, not really. If someone has done something bad, you should let them have the chance to change their ways.

I remember being told that on the 5th February 2012 at 11 am, I would have only four minutes left to live my life. What can you do in four minutes, eh? Listen to your favourite song? Call your lover? Call your friends and family and say goodbye? I would...if I could. I don't have anyone like that, I'm all alone. But maybe if I had longer I could find friends and have a family. But that is one thing I have been denied in life. So for four minutes, I will sit here and think about where my life went wrong...

Three minutes:

My life used to be full of laughter when I was a kid. I was always smiling and I loved to play a bit of footy with my friends. But one day, when I was 4, my best friend, Aaron, died one day after being run over by a car. He was the only person I could relate to and have fun with. When he died, I felt like I wanted to die to, I would stay up in my room for hours on end thinking about trying to kill myself. I was only 4, but I wanted to be with him, my best friend. The only person who understood me and he died way before his time. That was the first thing that happened in my life that has made it the way it is.

Two minutes:

The second thing that happened was that I lost my family, my whole family. They were all taken away from me in one of the cruellest ways possible.

We were hosting a Christmas dinner for the family back in '84. I was 11 years old. I had been so excited to have the family over for dinner. I could play with my brothers and my sisters and my cousins. I always looked forward to those get-togethers when I was a kid. They were the best part of my life.

But this particular get-together ended up in disaster. It was too soap-like for it to be real, but it was.

My mum and dad had been in the kitchen cooking dinner and everyone else was in the living room laughing about that past year. Everything had been fine, everything had been good. Mum then called us all in and we sat down and began to eat our dinner. We had been so happy that we didn't hear the letter box open and the sound of fire crackling in the hall. The reason we hadn't heard it was because we had Christmas music up loud and we were talking- well shouting at each other by then.

We only noticed the fire when there was the sound of it in the kitchen and the smell of smoke coming from around the house. We all got up and went to check every room, desperate to find a way out of the house, but we were trapped. The fire was everywhere except the dining room, which had been in the centre of the building.

I was the youngest and I was terrified. I ignored everyone and ran through the fire and out of the living room window, where I then noticed that my clothes were on fire. I had started to panic and I was so scared that my family wouldn't get out in time. I had been right. My family hadn't made it and they had burnt to death alone with the house. I had survived because I had been brave enough to run through the fire and out the window. I had landed up with severe burns to my face and body, which are still visible today.

I remember the firemen coming and watching the house collapse on the rest of my family still trapped in the building. I knew there was nothing I could do, and no matter how hard I had tried to get back inside the house; one of the firemen had always held me back. I remember watching them bring out my families bodies, and I remember turning away and running down the street away from the house; away from the firemen and away from my family who I would never see again. That was the second thing in my life that went horribly wrong.

I later found out that the fire had been caused by arson and that the smoke detectors had been broken, meaning that we couldn't have been alerted sooner.

I was broken and depressed.

One minute:

I landed up spending the rest of my childhood haunted by the deaths of my family and dealing with survivor's guilt. To make matters worse I was found on the street and taken into a care home where I became a rebel. I kept trying to run away and I would hit people until they were bruised. When I was 17 I was arrested for attacking someone and then when I was 19 I attacked someone again when I was drunk and landed back up in prison. I never told them what had happened to make me like that.

Thirty seconds:

Now, I'm 39 and my life has turned around, but not much. I managed to sort myself out and I no longer get taken to prison for fighting. However I never let go of my survivor's guilt and I am still haunted by the deaths of my family and best friend from all those years ago. I have never married and I have never found true love. So maybe it's right that I die now. I can't live any more, not like this. I have seconds until I die now and I can't wait. I will be with my family and best friend once again. And maybe, everything will be all right.

I feel my breath becoming shorter and rigid. I have seconds left. My eyes shut and I slowly lay down. I let put one last breath, and then...then I see my family and Aaron. I run up to them and together we cross the bridge and walk into the light.

I am happy at long last.