Descriptive Writing

As I hurried away from him burning house, it was so intense I was still able to feel the heat. I was so close I was inhaling the sore burning ash. My fast beating heart begins to beat faster and faster every second but I can barely catch my breathe. Hurry, hurry, hurry! Is what’s going through my head but I can’t seem to trot fast enough. I sense myself having a harder time taking in each wheeze. As I hurry and run to what I think is a bright yellow taxi, I take deeper breaths and longer sprints but every time I try harder to get to what I think I see, the heat gets thicker and thicker.