What do you do when the place you've always hated, but called home is destroyed? That is the question for 14 year old Luna Falcon. Will she be able to cope with the tough street life all alone?

published on June 14, 20145 reads 5 readers 0 not completed


Fire danced around the hellhole I lived in. It was terrifying. Probably the worst night of my life. I may have hated the place, and the people trapped inside its walls, but it was home. All I was thinking at the time though was how to escape. There was a small window on the opposite side of my room, but it was locked. There was nothing to smash it with. I thought I was going to die.

The smoke started to sneak through the cracks of my door very quickly. I ran to the window and  started to bang on it while screaming for help. But no one came. I grabbed my blanket and put it over my mouth and nose to stop me inhaling the toxic smoke. I had learned it at school last year when the fire brigade came to my class and gave us a talk about fire safety. They told us to tell our families to put in smoke alarms and test them once  a week. My family (if you could call them that) never listened to me, so you can guess they never listened to me when I told them about the fire alarms. So maybe if we had fire alarms in the first place we could have all got out in time, before the fire spread. But, it happened. The fire spread, and left me trapped in my room, being forced to listen to the screams of my brother and so called 'parents'. The screams soon died away. As did mine.
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