I found myself curled up stiffly in the corner of the balcony, like a sculpture. Even though there was no breath between my nose and lips, my face still showed a desire for life.
A wet towel slipped from my left hand, covered with black marks left by the smoke filter. The five fingers of my right hand were broken, the charred skin peeled off, revealing the scarlet flesh, and only a little bone remained on the little finger.
It turns out that I have passed away.
Twenty minutes ago, I was woken up by thick smoke in my sleep.
When I opened my eyes, I saw thick smoke and flames. The fire started in the kitchen and quickly spread to the living room, and then engulfed most of the house. I quickly wet a towel, covered my mouth and nose, bent down and groped to open the door.
My boyfriend Scott is the captain of the fire brigade, so I learned a lot of self-rescue knowledge from him. However, the door lock was already burned red. Even through the wet thick towel, I was still scalded and sparkling bubbles quickly appeared on my fingertips.
I reluctantly pulled the handle several times, but the door didn't budge. It turned out that the door frame had deformed under the high temperature, firmly blocking the door. The smoke grew thicker and thicker, almost filling my vision.
My head started to feel dizzy, a sign of carbon monoxide poisoning. I hurried to the balcony, opened the window as wide as possible, and made the first call for help - to my boyfriend Scott , who was in a cold war with me .
Today was Scott 's duty day, and the fire brigade he led was only a five-minute drive from me. Moreover, high-rise rescue happened to be his specialty.
"The number you dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later." A cold voice came from the receiver. I lowered my head to confirm that the number I dialed was his work number.
Scott once assured me solemnly: "Xiao Ran, this is the duty phone assigned by the unit. It is only used for communication in emergencies. It must not be turned off and must be answered when it rings. Apart from colleagues, only you know this number. Just think of it as our agreed-upon code for help. As long as you call, I will be there at your beck and call."
I had already pressed 119 , but after a moment's hesitation, I decided to call Scott again. After all, he was in charge of the area where I was located, and the final task would be assigned to him. Maybe it would be more efficient to contact him directly.
The waiting sound rang in my ears for a long time, until I heard Scott cursing angrily: "I'm busy! If you have anything to say, say it quickly, don't waste each other's time!"
I realized that I had made a third call, this time unconsciously. I shook my dizzy head a few times and tried to lean my face toward the window. My nasal cavity seemed to be swollen and no air could be squeezed in. I must have been poisoned by carbon monoxide while I was sleeping. Scott did n't notice my heavy breathing, and when he saw that I didn't speak, he urged me impatiently. I squeezed my congested throat and said word by word: "Scott, the house is on fire, can you come to save it..."
However, my words were interrupted by his ruthless reproach: "Hannah, please stop being jealous. I have explained countless times that Grace and I have no other relationship. I am just performing my job duties. Why don't you believe it? And you joke about the fire. Is it necessary?"
In the noisy background, Grace's slightly tearful cry of admiration was heard again: "I thought my brother would stop caring about me. You are really my lifesaver!"
