The bad thing about having such a good memory, is that you can never forget. You can never forget those things that you so desperately want to remove from your memory – from your life.

Today marks the 8th anniversary of the fire. How I wish I could forget those images, those sounds, those smells. The bright orange flames. The flashing lights from firetrucks and police cars. The smell of smoke. My aunt weeping. The look of absolute fear on everyone’s faces. The silence on the ride home to my parents’ house – my aunt and me in the back seat, my arm draped around her trying to think of something to say, but being speechless for the first time in my life.

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