Bedroom and Brothers Oil Art

It has been four years since my mother had died in a fire that was caused simply by not putting water on the coals we had to cook our lamb on, the coals were still burning, hot and red like the color of blood, but some how it managed to catch fire on my brothers oil art paintings that were scattered on the ground, from there our house lit up like the candles we use for weddings, I remember this moment so clearly, like it was just yesterday, My father leaped out of bed so fast his figure was blurry, once I saw that I knew something was wrong, and something was wrong, very wrong. I, and my mother followed my father to our living room only to find smoke, thick black heavy smoke, my father yelled to get out of the house, I still her his voice repeating its self in my head time to time, but as soon as we all herd him we all rushed to the door,we all stared at the fire, me my father and my mother, but wait were was Pan? Then we all realized he must be still sleeping inside! But before anyone could say anything my mother ran to the door and flung it open and went inside, that was the last time I ever saw her face again. Me and my father waited for hours for them to come out, but soon the fire died down from people taking there own water supply and throwing buckets and buckets to try and save our house, it was announced then that me and my father were the only survivors from this tragic event. In the morning we started to look in and around our house to see if anything survived the fire, I looked in the bedrooms well my father looked in the kitchen area, I first looked in my bedroom, some of my robes were covered in black dust, then I looked in my father and mothers bedroom only to find a few gold earrings in there drawers, and last but not least I looked in pans bedroom, his bedroom was probably the worst considering his room was right by the coals were it all started, I looked everywhere only to find nothing but ash, that day was the worst day in my life and