began rubbing it on the inside of my leg. I rubbed vigorously, like a madman, until the burning, hot fluid oozed down like a stream from my leg into my sock. The sock went away, but the burning stayed. At least that was the feeling I was having. That burning was not like any of the other burning I've ever felt, and I knew I was having it because the burning in my leg started to hurt. I knew I was being burned. I could feel the heat just underneath my skin. The burning was getting worse. I knew then that I was in a room with a flame. I knew I was very, very, very hot. I could feel the heat against my skin. I had never felt anything like it. That's when the fire brigade showed up. My father ran to the door, but my mother grabbed my arm and pulled me inside the house. The firemen had brought a cooler and water and brought it inside, and they were holding it on the porch, so I sat down with my feet against the cooler and held it against my leg so it would stay out of my way. They put my arm in the cooler and started giving me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. They started with the mouth. The oxygen was flowing into me. I felt better. Then they started with the lungs. I could breathe on my own for about two minutes, and then I was gone. The firemen said they couldn't get me out, that I was too hot and we couldn't get me out. I was still breathing, but I couldn't get any air into my lungs. I could feel the oxygen going out. They thought I had stopped breathing, but they were too worried to try again. Once I was gone, I didn't get back up. They thought I had died. I was gone. I was a corpse. I was not a person, I was a corpse. All my organs had stopped working. I could feel the burning, but I couldn't feel pain. Then they put a blanket over me. I was cold. I was dead. I had been dead for about an hour. I was cold. I had been dead for about an hour.