I was 8 years old. My family was visiting our close relatives' home. Another one of my cousin's families was also visiting. Our families would enjoy spending time together, cousins and aunts and uncles happy in each other's presence. Today would be different, however. I was a pyromaniac when younger, obsessed with fire and matches and stuff of the like. Whenever I got my hands on matches, I would go in the bathroom and light a few; now that I think about it, it would give me a rush of excitement. One of my cousins, the one whose house we were visiting, had matches in her room. I remember lighting a few in her room, with the door closed, and tossing them (after they were out) in the trash. After lighting one of the matches, though, I had this idea to light something on fire just to see how cool it would be. So I grabbed a letter from her desk and used the match to light it. I blew out the flame and tossed the letter behind a wardrobe in the room, thinking the flame/sparks were diminished. I left the room, and 20 minutes later from downstairs heard all of the adults frantically yelling upstairs. I ran up to see what was going on to see my uncle and father rushing to extinguish the fire with whatever water they could muster. I'll never forget the distressing yells of my uncles that night. They couldn't control the fire. Apparently, it started in her room and rapidly spread through the upper floor. House fires are nothing to be toiled with. We all exited the house, many of us crying and in utter disbelief. I saw my aunt and cousins crying, and was needless to say fearful and scared out of my mind as to what was happening. I just kept my mouth shut in fear and watched everything happen, hopelessly, as the fire gained traction and blew out the side of the house with a powerful, loud explosion. I'll never forget the side of the house blowing out and the deafening sounds. The firefighters offered some alternative explanations as to what could have caused the fire; to this day, I am unsure of what certainly may have caused the fire, but, as many of you may also conclude, I am pretty sure that what I had done caused it. My uncle who lived in the home was suffering from cancer at the time. After the fire, him and the rest of the family had to live in various hotels, constantly moving. I feel that my actions led to the constantly stressful and uneasy life which invigorated his cancer and ultimately led to his death. Even though this might not have been my fault, there has always been this disturbed sense in myself that I am responsible for the terrible suffering of multiple people.