A scorched Anton Van Leuven escaped the flames by a narrow mark, his mother's sacrifice weighing on him heavily as he cried out, though deafened by the surrounding commotion. As the flames engulfed his only known home, lashing out from broken windows and melting away each brick and board founding the home, he could do little but watch, a helpless observer of the chaos. " LEAVE MAMEJ! " Gripping his sister's drapes, the boy watched the door with utter desperation, hoping - nei praying that his mother would emerge from the smoking entrance, telling them all would be well. In all the commotion, not even Anton would realize the severe burns covering his left hand; back, and front traveling partway up his forearm. Likely to leave a nasty scar.