An excerpt from '2 weeks'Sleep. Tempting me. Knocking on my head as a fist on a door. Finally breaking as a wave on a rock. Then washing over me. Colors flying by me, my father standing strong again. Standing by me. The smell of smoke came as fast as the flames. Eating anything in its way. The sound of my mom yelling and my brother crying. I was five, and my brother was seven. I sat on the floor playing with my dolls and tucking them into bed. That's when the smoke reached my door.