I could feel the sweat running down my back. It was in ruins. My home. I stare blankly at the picture in front of me. It’s all black. Black edges with dark brown pieces erupting with red and orange. There was nothing else. I look around for the one thing that matters most to me. It takes me hours to dig through the rubble. I could feel the thick layer of ash on my face. My palms were full of new wrinkles. I wasn’t pale anymore. My mom always said I needed more color.  I guess red will do. At this point, it was almost pitch black. I was walking on air. There was nothing left in me to keep going. I couldn’t hold my head up anymore. Then I saw it. The thing that matters most. The thing that made my heart break for the last time. I rushed over, almost tripping at every step. The smallest corpse I’d ever seen. She was just as pale as I was, but instead of finding warm colors on her skin, I found no color at all. Pitch blackness. Just like the world was after walking into an explosion of warmth to join my baby daughter.