The burned house on my street still has someone inside

I wasn't going to post this but I can't stop thinking about it.

There's a burned-out house near mine. Was already like that when I moved in, apparently caught fire way before I ever showed up. The smoke smell is long gone but the wreckage? Still there. Just sitting. Looking exactly as wrecked as the day it burned.

Neighbors don't like talking about it. But from what I pieced together, a little girl died in that fire. Like, not even kindergarten age yet. LITTLE. The cause was supposedly the dad's cigarette. It was the middle of the night so nobody noticed until it was way too late.

And here's the thing that genuinely haunts me. the dad made it out. Half-asleep, realized something was wrong, jumped out a window, got rescued. But he didn't grab his daughter. By the time he realized she was still inside, the whole house was gone. His wife was already dead too. No relatives. Nothing. He just... disappeared into his grief somewhere. Which is why the house is still standing like that, all these years later. Nobody to claim it. Nobody to tear it down.

So one night I'm walking past it. The streetlight was hitting the blackened walls in this way that made the whole thing look like a ghost of a house. the structure is somehow still intact, which is probably the only reason the city never demolished it. collapse risk apparently.

And I'm standing there just thinking about what's still inside. The burned furniture. Maybe a kid's toys. Whatever's left of a life two people actually lived.

I looked up at the window.

There was an orange shape in it. Lit by the streetlight.

A small girl.

Black and red all over her. Burns. Her lips were cracked and melted and bleeding and she looked at me and said.

"Daddy... it's hot..."

The dad is still missing.