“Maybe there was a little blip of a heartbeat.” One day, there was an accident, a building was on fire, it was a really big fire. Many people ran out of the building, after a few minutes the firefighter came and the figher out there was a father and son still in the building. Suddenly the father ran out of the building.

The grey is all around his body, especially his face. He was staring blankly just watching straight to the front, then the firefighter put his hand on his shoulder, he realized his son was still in the building, this building could collapse at any time.

The father felt his heart beat fast. His legs were shaking, and he could not stand straight. The sound of fire trucks, people shouting, and glass breaking slowly disappeared. At that moment, the world felt very quiet for him. All he could see was the door of the building where his son was still inside.

He tried to move forward, but the firefighter held him back. “You can’t get in,” the firefighter said. It is too dangerous. The father shook his head again and again. Tears ran down his face, mixing with the gray ash. He wanted to shout his son’s name but his voice was gone.

His mind began to fill with memories. He remembered teaching his son how to ride a bike. He remembered holding his hand when they crossed the street. He remembered his son smiling at him that morning before school. Those memories hurt more than the fire. The father fell to his knees. He pressed his hands against the ground, feeling weak and helpless. Time felt slow, like it was stuck. It is like the shift is speed slowing things down while everything is happening so fast. Every second felt longer than the last.

Suddenly, a firefighter ran out of the building. His face was serious, but he was moving fast. More firefighters followed him back inside. The father looked up, hope slowly growing in his chest. He held his breath and waited.

After a long time, the firefighters came out again. This time they were carrying a small body, the father stood up and ran toward them. It was his son. His clothes were dirty, and his face was covered in ash but his chest was moving.

The father dropped to the ground and held his son tightly. He cried, not caring who was watching. The fire was still burning. And the building was still standing, but none of that mattered to anyone.

His son was alive. And at that moment, the father felt his heart beat normally again.