Living Statue

The street stretched away from where she stood, watching her house disappear in a cloud of smoke and fire. She felt the overwhelming blast of the explosion hit her like a train and all she saw was smoldering wood, people rushing through their doors wondering what the commotion was. She stood their in shock like a statue seeing all the memories in that house just vanishing in a split second. Her eyes nothing but a reflection of the flames and carnage, her body stiff and powerless in a trance of paralyses, and her skin got whiter than any winter with a river of a cold sweat and tears. She stood there in a trance for hours and even when people tried to get her to do something, she didn't flinch, she didn't acknowledge, she didn't respond, and only one thing was visible on her face, shock, curiosity, and the image of her house in flames imbedded into her eyes, brain, and very soul scarred for life.
Her name was Rose, nothing but a little toddler of 7 with no care in the world and idea on how scary it is. She was never supposed to be near the house. But life had something planned for that girl. A reason for showing her such climactic horror without warning. Something changed that care free girl like a immediate switch in her brain triggered something no one would suspect. She eventually started to move and interact more and more, but in more subtle ways and with more serious points. She seemed more broad and to the point and never liked joking anymore. Everyone but her new what had happened, she bottled up her feelings and child like traits and switched to a completely different girl.
People tried to help but the girl grew a stubborn attitude toward people and never liked advice or help. Even her friends were on the brink of tears trying to help bring her back. Nothing worked, it was like nature had achieved a way of turning her into a negative of her former self, a self that looked the same but different inside. She always was in deep thought with that grave image in her eyes and that statue look on her face.
Years had past and a new house was placed where the old used to lie. She seemed unaffected by this action but she looked angry and disappointed like all they did was cover up the case of her house, of her once beloved and memorable home. She was bottling up even more about this and talking and interacting even less. She needed to open up more or she would be in real trouble of hurting herself and others if she finally snaps, she needed therapy and something that makes her more comfortable and someone that she can truly reach out and open up to. Unfortunately, her parents and grandparents had passed and any other family was too far away to come and help. She seemed to be lost, gone her conscious trying to pick a path that is right to her but confused and stuck at the crossroads of choice.
She has done research on the incidence and had come up with only info the news and detectives gave out. No possible reasons of if it was a natural cause of inside house trouble or done on purpose by a neglected character or group. Nothing was truly a good starting point for her to point her determination of persecution of the cause and she being the effect. One day though she went back to where her house was and scavenged for something others missed. The only suspicious thing found was a half burnt match and some charred casings of some sort that she did not remember ever being in her house. She was told it was probably a gas vein going off but she had a different alternative to what happened. She did the smart thing and asked around to see if anyone went to the house around the day of the accident.
No one saw or really payed attention to the subject, she even went to the people working on the house if they could figure it out. No, nothing, zip, she had to resort to her determination on the subject and rifle any form of possible people, evidence, and or possible facts found hidden. She first had to be able to have access to areas off limits and supplies needed to persecute her actions. While roaming the surrounding area of the house she found tire skid marks in the back ally like someone was in a hurry. She had been reestablishing info back to the authorities, most of it anyway, and kept some things she deem relevant to her cause and her actions.
A few months had passed and she still only scratched the surface of this case but the authorities found something concerning the objects she turned in. They were burnt and wrecked very well but some reminiscence of finger prints and DNA were found but just enough to call a name and a connection to a old group formerly known to be disband. His name was Marco Kieth, a former leader of the Leviathan group that purged the west coast and had a superior record through the years it has been active.