I stood in the middle of the burnt rubble. The ashes of my house covered my shoes and hands. I bent down trying to collect things that weren't completely destroyed. I picked up a photo of my parents and wiped the ashes off of it. The fire was out. The smoke was gone. The fire trucks were driving away. I felt heave hands on my shoulders and turned around.

"Hey Uncle Joe." I said as I wrapped my arms around him, and buried my face in his shirt.

Joe wasn't really my uncle; He was my father's best friend. They were like brothers.

"Come on, let's go." He said.

I walked with him to his car and got in. Neither one of us said a word until we reached his house.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"School starts tomorrow. We'll get through this together."

"I can't go to school tomorrow! Everything I had was destroyed."

"It's what your father would want. Everything will be fine."

I walked into his house and ran up the stairs, slamming the door to my new room. I was confused and I didn't know what to expect next. I lied down on the bed and closed my eyes. Today I had lost everything; my house, my belongings, even my parents. They had been in the house when it burnt down. I was too, but the paramedics saved me. He said it was a miracle. I had been a flat line, dead.

I placed the picture of my parents on the dresser next to the bed, wondering why God gave me another chance. I fell asleep knowing that tomorrow was another day, and that the answer lies in the future. Tomorrow was a new beginning.