SCHOOL ON FIRE!
That was the headline on the screen. When they showed a clip of the school burning, we a familiar building. "Please God, don't let it be Amara's school." I murmured under my breath. I wasn't the only one praying.
My mother looked transfixed on the TV screen, praying loudly. "It is not Amara's school! It is not her school!" She kept repeating herself like it was a chant.
"Yeee!!!" My mother fell to the ground, wailing when she saw the sign board that had the name of the school. It was really my baby sister's school. Before I could think properly, my body moved. I picked up the hammer and went to hit the door.
My father beat me to it. In his hands was a wielding tool. How he had gotten that tool, I didn't know. All I knew was that my father was melting down the lock of the door, at the edge of it. Soon, he pushed the door open.