“No” I cry out loud, as my quivering hand wrapped around the chord attached to the wall. What action I almost had no control of. Each breath I took burned like a torch on my chest,only adding to the flame inside. I began to gain some control over my swallowing thoughts, sweat dripped down my fingers as I reached up on the smooth wood desk. Then I felt it the only thing that hade a chance of saving me from the abis my life had become. Although somewhat blurry I could still make out the numbers on the small telephone that sat almost peacefully. The fire started again, the blinding light of sorrow over came me once more and instead of pressing numbers of hope I thrust the poor phone onto the floor killing my only hope of freedom, of joy, of strength, for there was no flame that could be extinguished with water. The fire was in me the flames charing ever thing in its path. My hope was only one call away but now everything I had ever desired lay on the floor in broken peices, now nothing can save me from my fire.