Those evil blue flames destroying what used to be my fun hut, descending pieces of wood to the dark black ground just can’t be anything I’d expect. I feel like I'm the only survivor of World War 10 the only one just looking at a burning home.The ash of what was a desk flutters to the ground. The smell of the fire and the sound of it crackling is aching. That “Gumbel Dack”, what I suppose was a drunk teen. I will give revenge to him. My only escape time from the world was in there. That hut was a piece of my life, it was a place to relax, but now the remains is just half a stump and which used to be a treasure now gone.