The sun is hidden today, blanketed by the clouds, as per usual. My small hometown of shithole, Louisiana never changes. It was still the same buildings my father walked by when he was a kid. I walked the narrow road, cursing out my father. I wish he just drafted me instead of making me work as a stupid milkman for our family company. I turned right suddenly, stepping onto the steps of my father's milk distribution store. I walked to the counter. Hope Cavender was manning the calls. She was a local whose parents have been here just as long as mine, if not longer. She was smart. Smart enough to put up with my fathers fragmented guidelines.
"Good afternoon, Miss Hope." I greeted her cheerfully. Maybe a pretty girl could get me out of my mopey mood.
"Good afternoon, Tobias." She replied with a sly grin.
I grumbled, I hated my full name. Tobias. It sounds like a grumpy old man. I liked Toby much better. It sounded young and full of life.
"How's desk work, miss Cavender?" I smirked. She glared at me, then grinned like I did.
"Better than being an errand boy in this weather, I'm sure." She smiled, she hit a nerve and she knew it.
"Whatever. Where am I going?" I was done teasing young Hope.
She punched the keyboard a couple times.
"Um, 273 Durango and the three houses to the left of it." She was back in business mode.
I knew the town well enough to know that was a thirty minute walk. I groaned and walked past the desk to pull out four old school milk bottles from the back fridge.
"Have fun." Hope called after me. I flipped her off over my shoulder to which she chortled.

Just me. Me alone in the world of my thoughts. I wonder if I'll ever get out of here. I wonder if my father will ever let me do anything else besides deliver milk. I wonder if I'll ever get a car. I wonder if I'll ever have a wife. Maybe I should count on getting a girlfriend first. I wonder if Hope is interested in me. Probably not. I bet that Hope Cavender is going places. She won't be my daddy's receptionist forever, hopefully. I know if I was my daddy's receptionist forever, I'd kill myself or find some way to get the shop shut down. Anything to get away from that grumpy old man and his tempers. He's hit my mama and I've never forgiven him for that. I assumed that's why me and the old man never got along. He belted me when I was young whenever I acted up. When I was about nine, I fought back and he gave me more than the belt. Maybe that's why I'm so messed up.
I was so focused in my train of thought that I didn't see the sudden dip in the sidewalk, I stepped off balanced and lost my footing and fell, slamming my head on the concrete. I lay sprawled out on the side of the road for a couple minutes. My head was warm and everything hurt. I rolled my head to the left, the milk bottles were a little cracked but all in all, okay. I laid there for a couple more minutes until I smelt something. Something usual.
Smoke. I straightened. My head spun. I fought the black spots that threatened my vision. I stumbled to my feet and grabbed my milk delivery. I stuck my nose in the air, smelling. I shakily turned a corner and found 30 feet flames, destroying those familiar neighborhoods.
I went as close as I could to the house and grabbed the only form of liquid I had. The milk bottles. I threw them one by one into the windows. It didn't even look like it helped. A scream from the back of the house spoke to my protective instincts. It reminded me of my mom and her cries for help and no one would help her except me.
Without another thought, I rushed into the house. Instantly, smoke burned my eyes, making them water. Smoke burned my nose hairs and my throat. My body hated the thickness of the smoke and instincts told me to turn around. Yet I stumbled on. I coughed and looked into doorways, looking for anyone. I hope to god no one is badly burnt.
"Hello?" I called and coughed again. I heard my heart in my head, thumping away. A sitting room, destroyed, the wallpaper alight. A library engulfed in flames.
Another scream.
I stopped dawdling and ran. My vision was fading. My heart pumping solidly in my chest was only reason I went on. I knew I was going to pass out soon, so I hurried. I came the end of the hallway, a door. Behind it, I heard a whimper. I knocked, and tried the doorknob. Locked. I murmured some curses and began hitting the door with my shoulder. On the eighth try, I finally knocked the door out of its frame.
A small woman and an even smaller boy sat curled up in the corner of a dinky kitchen, nearly dead.
I pulled the woman to her feet. She swayed but then stablized herself.
"My son, please." She pointed at the boy. I picked him up, my head spun. I needed to hurry or I was going to black out in this burning building. I dragged the woman and held her young child back through the hallway I had came. The air around us was black with smoke, so dense I could hardly breathe. The woman and I dragged each other down the hall, sounds of the building breaking echoed. I wondered who was dragging me and who I had over my shoulder. But that would have to wait, my brain was trying to stay awake in this oxygen deprived place.
A rectangle of sunlight was before me and a man in a heavy suit, he grabbed the child from me and motioned for me to follow. The woman stumbled out, my body was paralyzed, I couldn't move, I couldn't remember how to move, I couldn't remember how to breathe. I took a few shaky steps outside only for my vision to completely blacken and my knees to buckle.

I woke up in a hospital with my mama staring down at me.
"Oh my baby!" She cried when my eyes opened. She hugged me, her hair dangling in my face, going up my nose and in my mouth.
"Ma, what happened?"
"You're a hero, Toby! You saved Miss Prichett and her son, Phillip from that fire. Luckily the firemen came just in time, when you hit the concrete, that building almost broke apart right there. The only injuries Miss Pritchett and little Phillip got was smoke filled lungs, but no burns, and they're alive. The mayors thinking about giving you a medal. Good thing I raised you right, putting others before yourself, that's my son."
"What did father think of my stunt?"
Mama ignored the question, "Lucky you, you only got a concussion, smoked lungs and a few minor burns, you sure are lucky, Toby. God was looking down on you today, boy."

When I was allowed to leave the hospital, I went home. My father was home when I got there, oh man did he beat that night. How dare I disgrace his company and why didn't I wait for the firemen? When people are stupid, they gotta be punished. You worry 'bout yourself, Tobias. No one else unless I tell you to. I didn't fight back that night, I let him hit me, but in my heart I knew what I did was right. I did save Miss Pritchett and little Phillip's lives. But for that one night, I let him be right. Just how my mama taught me, others before myself, right?