Ashley Morant strolled out into the cool night air, after an exhausting karate grading. Her black belt blew lightly in the wind, and she couldn't help smiling to herself. She was now a Fifth Dan Karate Black Belt, and to her it was the best achievement she had ever made. She couldn't wait to tell her parents the good news.
Ashley rounded to corner and began jogging up the hill to her house, but gasped in horror as she saw that it was in flames.
'Fire! Help!'
Ashley heard a siren and glanced down the road at a fire truck that had just entered the street. She was freaking. She knew that her whole family was in there and asleep for sure; they never stayed up this late.
She ran down the driveway and tried to go down the back stairs, but was driven back by the extreme heat.
'Get away from there!' A fireman was running down the driveway. 'Anyone in there?'
'Only my whole family,' said Ashley sarcastically.
'Oh my god,' The fireman shouted up to the others, and gestured for them to come down quickly.
Suddenly there was a creaking sound, and sparks flew everywhere. The roof was collapsing! Ashley's heart was in her mouth as she watched her beloved house collapse into a pile of burning wood and metal. She couldn't bear this any longer. She sprinted down the hill, went head over heels and landed in a bush. Ashley sobbed. This was the worst thing that had ever happened in her life.
When Ashley first opened her eyes, she had no idea where she was. Then she remembered: she was in a bush at the bottom of her street, and her whole family had died the night before.
With tears streaking down her elegant face, Ashley trudged up the hill to take a look at the ruins of the house she had lived in since she was born. All that was left was a pile of smoking rubble. She remembered her sister and two brothers. She had been the second oldest. Her sixteen year old brother Michael had been the oldest. Her ten year old brother Jackson had come next, and then eight year old Megan had been the youngest. Now without them, and without her parents, she had nowhere to go. She was only 13; nobody would offer her a job. The only sensible place to go was to the police station. Her mother had always told her that if she was ever in trouble, the police would help her. They would find her a home.
Ashley jumped when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She whirled around. Standing in pyjama bottoms and socks was Jackson. Jackson was alive!
Hope rushed through her.
'Jackson!' Ashley pulled him into a massive hug.
'Ash! Mum and Dad and everyone...'
'I know. But it's gonna be OK, right?' said Ashley, more to convince herself rather than her younger brother.
She broke away from him. 'We have to go to the police station. Now.'
A bell sounded as Ashley walked through the doors of the police station, trying to calm Jackson.
'Can I help you?' asked the receptionist.
'Well, our house burned down last night."
The receptionist gasped, 'Old Mill House? I was told nobody survived!'
'Well obviously, we did,' said Jackson bluntly.
'Well then, who are your relatives? Where do they live?'
Ashley and Jackson looked at each other. 'Uh... we don't have any.'
The receptionist tried not to cry in front of the children. She too had lost her parents in a fire. Watching the little boy – whatever his name was – reminded her of her them, and how she too had nowhere to go.
'We will sort you out a children's home then,' she said, as best she could. 'I will just make a few phone calls. You can wait in the waiting room, to your left. There are lots of toys there.'
Ashley didn't have the strength to argue. She led Jackson through to the waiting room, where there was a small box of toys and a wall-mounted TV.
She picked up the remote and turned it on. There was news about the fire on almost every channel. She could guess why. This was Cornwall, UK. Anything that happened got put on the news, probably because they had nothing serious to report. Ever.
The receptionist poked her head around the door. 'I've sorted you a place at Elm House, I will take you there myself now.'