Tears ran down my face. "Why is this happening?" I thought. October 25th, 2003 started out as a normal day. I woke up to a beautiful fall morning with the birds chirping happily and the wind blowing like a dream . . . and here I was. In the car, my legs smashed by a bird cage which held a frightened parakeet. And the car loaded with clothes, computers, books, and people. I was driving down a burning California mountain road with my Mom and little brother Jonathan. I was very scared, and my teeth chattered part of the time, my heart pounded, and my eyes filled with salty tears.

"Oh my gosh!" my brother shouted. My mother looked to her right and said with fear, "Oh my gosh . . ." as if there was nothing else to say to explain it all. It was the first time I saw my mother really scared. I did not want to look. But I just could not keep it in. I looked to my right, and there it was.

In the dark, the flames glowed like a monster ready to eat us up. It was very close, only about 3/4 of a mile away. The flames were in a weird shape, and connected to a bunch of other flames spread all the way around the mountain. They were at least 60 feet high. It was the worst sight I have ever seen. The colors red and orange mixed like it was a terrible "Thing" with only one purpose: to kill. I just wanted to scream and scream at the horrible sight, but I held it in. I was panicking. It is very hard to stay calm when the worst fire in the history of California was on our mountain . . . heading straight towards me, my family, and my home. What would you do? I prayed over and over again, "God please keep this mountain, us, and my Dad safe!"

My Dad was driving another car with other stuff and pets with him. I was trying to keep myself calm by looking at our little blue fish, Bubbles the Beta. He was in a clear cup with a lid, in the car's cup holder in front of me. He was floating around happily because he didn't know what was going on. My parrot Penny, her cage covered up in the back seat, could smell the smoke. She heard me crying. I wanted to take her out of the cage, but Mom wouldn't let me. I accepted this and just heard the poor parrot whine.

We were still driving slowly down the hill, a line of traffic with headlights on behind us. My Mom assured us that we would make it to safety, but I did not think so. I never admitted that she was right even when she was.

We finally made it down the hill. We could see the mountain. It looked scarier than before. It was like a zigzag thing going up the whole mountain and sucking the life out of it. It looked like a volcano split, and the lava was coming down the hill towards all the houses but also going up. Everyone in the car was speechless. My mom wanted to stop and take some photos, but I screamed at her because it would be hard to get back on the road with all the cars, and I could not sit there and watch her take a picture. The car was very silent once we left that sight behind.