• I just came back from my wife's funeral, but my sons are at their grandmother's house. I wouldn't be able to tell them that their mom is gone and never coming back. My first son is Jacob, he's 7 and my baby boy Michael is 3. I wish I could say that burying my wife Mallory was the worst day of my life but I would only lying to myself. I live in a small town in Arkansas; I have tried not to be that social ever since that happened. Me, I am just a normal guy who, just a few weeks ago, was the happiest man on earth. My wife and I had more than enough to support our family and the happiness i felt from seeing my 2 boys growing up was priceless. Mallory... oh you would be
    stunned at how beautiful she was. This is all I could remember about the fire.


    I came home late that night from working overtime at the office. I called Mallory earlier saying that I was gonna be getting home late. Her voice was as calm as ever through the phone and the last thing she said to me was "I love you". When I come home the house is blazing. Without thinking i went to my boy's room and carried them out. I told Jacob to run to thier grandmother's house. As he ran I heard Michael crying which felt like a stab through my heart. I thought Mallory got out safely until i heard a yell which left my cold.I ran into my bedroom but saw noone until I noticed blood dripping from the ceiling. I took one look and i saw her, my wife, hanging from the ceiling... and that's all i could remember.