Everyday Superhero

In this world there are two kinds of people; those who take actionand those who dont.
There are people who rise to the occasion and do the right thingand there are people who
dont. I am alive today because of one of those amazing people who do take action, who actually
do the right thing.
That person saved my life on December. 17
th
, 2003. I was a young girl of sixteen at the
time. It was a regular day, nothing out of the ordinary. However, all of that changed

Achoo!
With eyes burning and nose running like a leaky faucet, I reached out a hand for the box
of puff Kleenex on my bedside table. Ah, Puffs. The most prized possession of anyone with a
cold. I blew my nose with a loud honk, and coughed. A nasty cold bug was going around my
school, and I was its latest victim. Snuffling miserably, I burrowed deeper under the warm covers
and silently thanked my mom for letting me stay at home. Normally she was such a hard nose
about me going to school, and only the sight of me puking my guts out convinced her that I was
truly sick. Luckily, the astronomical amount of Kleenex I was going through, coupled with
racking coughs and violent sneezing, persuaded her that I shouldnt go to school. With a kiss and
a Get better soon! my mom left for work. I was alone.
As I lay in bed, I listened to all the quiet sounds in my room. the steady ticking of my
alarm clock. The hum of the heating vent. The muffled cacophony of traffic outside.
I sighed. Warmth cocooned me, soothed me, and my eyelids began to feel heavy. I
strained against the lead weights dragging my eyes closed, but they were too strong. With a final
flutter, my lids slowly drifted closed, and I gently fell into the downy arms of sleep.

Heat. Scorching, blistering, sweltering heat.
The heat was a monster, and the monster was flame, and the flames devoured me. My
skin began to bubble, split, and melt. I thrashed in agony and began to cough and choke on thick,
nauseous smoke. The air was filled with the stench of burning hair and flesh, and it was too
much, too much, and I

Rolled out of bed, coughing and gasping for air. I hit the hardwood floor with a thud, then
pushed myself up onto my hands and knees. Squinting through watering eyes, I peered around
my room.
There was a greasy haze of smoke hovering in the air, and it was unbearably hot. Sweat
coated my body, making my tank top cling to my back and dampening my flannel PJ bottoms.
My lungs burned, and I gave another racking cough as I inhaled the smoke.
Wait. Smoke? Why was there smoke in my room? My brain wasnt working, still foggy
from sleep, a gone on break sign slung on the closed door of my intelligence. But even now I
could add two and two together. Smoke plus intense heat always equaled one thing.
Fire!
Remembering everything I knew about fires, I crawled across the floor to the window on
my stomach, keeping as far below the deadly smoke as I could. If I breathed in too much I would
pass out, guaranteeing that I would burn to death.
I reached the window and unlatched in from my position on the floor, before I swiftly
stood up and yanked it open. Or, at least, tried to yank it open. The window wouldnt budge.
With a heave and a grunt of effort, I tried againbut it still wouldnt move. Why was it stuck?
The reason suddenly hit me. The window was frozen shut. The temperature was always at
least minus ten degrees even here in the outskirts of the city, and my room was five stories up.
The cold wind kept the frost on the window in the winter months, effectively sealing it shut no
matter how hot it got inside the apartment.
I could feel my breath coming shorter and faster as I began to panic, and coughed on the
cloying smoke. Blinking sweat out of my eyes, I frantically scanned the room for something to
break the window with. Unfortunately, nothing heavy enough to break smash the reinforced
glass presented itself. I couldnt escape through the window.
I crouched back to the ground and crawled as fast as I could out my open bedroom door
in the direction of the living room. I scuttled down the hallway. It was getting hotter and hotter,
the heat like a physical wall I had to push through.
Hacking up black phlegm as I went, I finally reached the living roomand was blasted
by a heat so intense that I thought my eyebrows would burst into flame and my eyeballs melt.
I guess I knew where the smoke was coming from now.
The living room and kitchen were a blazing inferno, flames licking up the walls and
ceiling, and ravenously devouring the furniture. The fire roared like an angry beast, deafening
and terrifying.
If there had been any moisture left in my body, I would have cried, as I realized at that
moment that I was trapped. The windows couldnt be broken and there was no way out. I was
going to die, horribly and in pain, just like in my dream.
A hopeless sob escaped my lips, but it quickly transformed into another racking cough.
This one seemed worse than all the others, like razor blades slicing apart my lungs and throat
from the inside. I was running out of breath, but when I tried to gasp in more, I just choked on
the smoke. My vision was starting to get dark around the edges, and I could feel consciousness
slipping away.
The floor beneath me began to shake, and I heard a loud CRASH! as something above
me snapped. That was all the warning I had before blinding pain exploded in my head and
everything went dark.

HELLO!? IS ANYONE IN THERE!? a deep voice called out.
Groaning in pain, I slowly opened my eyes, wincing at the intense throbbing in my head.
There was a heavy weight pressing on my back, and it was extremely hot.
I struggled to remember what was happening, the insistent drum beat in my head getting
in the way of thought. Then I remembered. My house was on fire!
I tried to get onto my hands and knees to crawl away, to escape the flames, but the weight
on by back was too much. I craned my neck around to see what had landed on me, and saw a
huge piece of wood and some crumbling pieces of drywall. A support beam must have collapsed
on me. Great.
HELLO?! IS ANYONE THERE?! called the voice again.
I wearily lifted my head up to face the speaker. The voice was coming from the other side
of the front door. I felt a small spark of hope in my heart. Maybe I would survive this!
I cleared my throat as best I could and called out in a scratchy voice, Yes, Im here! I
cant move though, something landed on me! Please, help me! I closed my eyes and focused on
breathing, staving off the panic that threatened to consume me. What if they didnt help? I would
be trapped here, unable to do anything but slowly burn to death. The voicea mans voice
interrupted my frightened musings.
Its okay! Im coming in to get you, so sit tight! and with that, the front door burst off
its hinges and a tall man ran into the room. He paused for a moment, adjusting to the heat, then I
saw him start to look for me.
Over here! Under the beam! I called out. The man turned in my direction, and I could
tell that he finally saw me. He made his way across the flaming obstacle course that was the
living room, and stopped when he reached my side.
Im going to lift this beam off of you, the man shouted over the roaring of the fire. As
soon as you arent held down anymore, crawl out from under it as fast as you can. I wont be
able to hold it for long!
Not waiting for my response, the man gripped the heavy beam in his hands and heaved
upwards. I gasped in relief when the crushing weight was lifted from my back, and I scuttled
from under it as quickly as I could out.
Im clear! I yelled. As soon as the words left my lips, the man dropped the beam to the
ground and hurried over to me.
Im going to carry you out of here now, okay? Youre too weak to walk and we need to
get out of here fast. I nodded up at him, my throat too sore to do any more talking.
He nodded back and gave me a reassuring smile, then hefted me up into his arms and
jogged out of the room. Curled up against his chest, I found it a bit easier to breath. I started
drifting in and out of consciousness as he ran, only the jostling of his gate keeping me awake.
After what seemed like an eternity, cool, sweet air entered my lungs and caressed my
face. I could hear numerous worried voices all around me, and I was gently placed down on the
dead, prickly grass in front of the apartment.
I opened my eyes and looked at the face of the man who saved me, but I couldnt see it
through the dish cloth he had wrapped around his nose and mouth. He grabbed a bottle of water
from someone standing nearby and handed it to me.
Here, drink this slowly and try to get the phlegm out of your lungs. Im going back in
the building to see if theres anyone else left in there. The fire department is taking too long, and
it might be too late for any survivors in there by the time they get here. He reached out a hand
and ruffled my hair, and I saw the corners of his eyes crinkle up in a smile. Wish me luck!
Turning on his heel, the man rushed back into the burning building.
I just sat there on the grass, swaddled in a blanket that a bystander handed to me, staring
at the building and hoping that the man would come out okay. But it wasnt to be.
BOOM!
In a crimson ball of fire, the middle floors of the building exploded, glass and shards of
wood flying outwards in all directions. The roar was deafening, and I felt my ears pop,
everything going oddly silent. I could see chaos around me, flames falling from the sky and
people running around, crying and screaming.
I just sat there, numb. I couldnt believe what had just happened. One minute, the man
was standing right in front of me, smiling. The next, he got caught in a ball of fire and was dead.
It didnt make sense.
I could see the flashing red and blue lights of the ambulances and fire trucks now, but
they were too late. They were too late to save the man that had saved me.
A paramedic was crouched in front of me, probably trying to figure out if I needed help.
Seeing that I clearly did, I saw him beckon someone over. I could feel myself being strapped to a
gurney and an oxygen mask being placed over my nose and mouth. Cool, refreshing air hit my
starved lungs, and I breathed deeply. Suddenly my breath hitched, and I started coughing up
black, sticky phlegm into the mask.
As I was being rolled away on the gurney, I was still staring at the burning building. The
flames were reaching their bright grasping fingers into the night sky, almost as if they wanted to
burn the stars. My vision began to blur as tears filled my eyes, and exhaustion finally took its
toll. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, darkness encroached on my vision, and I lost
consciousness.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital room hooked up to a number of machines. The
doctors said that I had suffered trauma to my head from the beam, but I would be okay. I would
need to stay in the hospital for a week, though, just to make sure that there were no
complications with my head or my lungs, which had also gone through their own fair share of
trauma from inhaling so much smoke.
I didnt care much about how I was doing, however. I wanted to find out what had
happened to the man who had saved me. As soon as I was able, I asked one of the nurses if she
knew what happened to the man who had gone back inside the burning building to look for
survivors. The lady just looked at me sadly, and informed me that the man had died in the fire
after the explosion. I felt a stab of pain in my chest, knowing for sure now that my savior was
dead.
Throughout the rest of my stay, I found out as much as I could about the man. His name
was Daniel OBrian, and he was a married man with three young children at home. He was a
fireman, and had been off duty at the time of the fire in my apartment. He and his family lived in
the room across from mine, and he had been home alone when he came to save me. He was an
avid church go-er, and an all around good guy. His familys loss was a great one.
Once during my stay, I met his family at the hospital. They were all grieving, but when I
said I was sorry that he died saving me, they all said that he died doing what he believed was
right and I shouldnt apologize for that. They also invited me to his funeral, saying that he would
have wanted me to go. It was to be held three days after I was released from the hospital.

The morning of December. 27
th
, 2003 was a dreary one. The rain poured down from the
grey sky, almost as if the heavens themselves were crying at the death of Daniel OBrian.
I looked at the grim people around me, all of us dressed in black and huddled around the
grave. Standing at the head of the grave was an elderly priest clutching a bible, giving a sermon
about death and goodbyes in a slow, melancholy voice.
Looking at everyone and listening to the sermon, I felt sad. I hardly knew the man, but he
had a huge impact on my life and it was clear that he was a good man. Seeing all these people
grieve for him really hammered that fact home, and it seemed so unfair that he had to go.
However, listening to what the priest was saying, it sounded like this man was going to a
beautiful placeone much better than here. One day, he and his family would be reunited again,
and they would all be happy. I wasnt too sure if I believed it, but just the fact that it was such a
comfort to Daniels loved ones made me want to believe it.
.His kingdom come, His will be done. Amen. Concluded the priest. I realized that I
had been so caught up in my own thoughts that I had missed the service. Everyone was leaving
now, some sobbing into loved ones shoulders, others with the stiff upper lips of those who are
trying not to cry.
In a few brief minutes, I was left alone with Daniels grave stone and my own thoughts.
A single white rose gripped in my hand, I walked to the grave stone and crouched down in front
of it. The inscription on its surface said:

Daniel OBrian
Mar.3
rd
, 1971 Dec.17
th
2003
Cherished Husband,
Beloved Father
Dearest Friend
I tried to think of something deep and meaningful to say, something to really do justice to
who he was. But Im not a great poet or speaker, so I settled for my true feelings.
Taking a deep breath, a small smile curled up the corners of my lips. In a quiet voice, I
simply whispered, Thank you.
I placed my rose at the foot of the grave, stood up, and dusted off my knees. With a last
look at the inscription, I turned and left, grateful that such an amazing man had deemed my life
worthy enough to save.