Fiction Suspense Inspirational

One of the many things I like to do is something I call 'launch, shoot, discharge.' It's basically just watching a fire. That's literally it. I find watching fire helps my body in a way that I can't explain. I grew up around fire, and so, I typically considered fire as a friend. I know, right? Being friends with fire doesn't sound so pretty, but If you were me, and I were you, trust me, you wouldn't understand. 

Growing up in places that had high risks of wildfires, I've seen worse. Moving from place to place wasn't easy for me, though. My mother said that I had a tough childhood, and I guess I could relate to that. Malibu was a living nightmare, even worse, a living hell. Everywhere you'd go, there would be fire, rapid oxidization in random places. 

One of the toughest times of my life had to be when my father died in a fire. As people were being evacuated into fireproof buildings, my mother and father ran for their lives as the fire came rushing in like a mighty wind, taking the lives of those I once considered family. We were only a meter away from safety when sparks ignited and burned my father to a crisp. His bones laying on the floor. "It was painful to watch," my mother told me. 

I was just two when this happened, so I don't remember much. Even though my companion took away the innocent lives of so many people, I couldn't help but just acknowledge the fact that fire was just so...beautiful, so precious. Its sparks flickering then vanishing in the night sky, glowing embers beneath all the charcoal and rusty wood, the luminescent livid smoke dancing in the air then leaving a rather pungent smell, and the fire. My fire. Its mighty, ardent personality, its radiant incandescence, my soul roaring on the inside. Periergia, fire.

Mom interrupted my thoughts, or rather, my dreams. "Ember! get up!" "Fire..." 

"Get up!"

"So beautiful," 

"Ember, honey," 

"So precious..." 

"Oh, Lord,"


"Is my daughter dead?!" 



"That's strange. Why does that voice sound so familiar...?" 

"If you're not awake in the next two-and-a-half seconds, I'll forcefully agape those huge eyes of yours," 

"...did I hear something about eyes...?" 

"Ember, I'm not kidding. Please get up," 

"why is that voice so familiar, though...could I be-"


Ah! "I'm up! I'm up," 

"Good, you had me scared. You have 15 minutes," 

Am I hallucinating? 

"Well? What're you waiting for?! Hustle!" 


As soon as mom left, I couldn't help but wonder, 'Was that just all a dream...? No, it was too real to be a dream. But man...what a dream that was," In less than fifteen minutes, I was out the door. 

"Bye, mom. Love you," 

"Love you too, and be good. No getting into trouble," 

"Pfft, whatever, I have to go," 

I shut the door and dashed to school. 

"What will I do with you, Ember," 

As I dashed to school, I came across a person with a confuzzled look on his face. He looked troubled, so I decided to see what was happening. 

"Hello, kind sir, you seemed to be troubled,"

" Glad you noticed," the man said.

"...Is there anything I can do for you, perhaps, light that pile of wood right there?" I requested.

"Sure thing. I don't know exactly how to start a fire, so your help could probably be of good use," replied the man. 

"Uhm, okay, fetch me a couple of sticks, will ya, kind sir," I asked.

"But, I already have enough sticks," 

"The more sticks, the better, C'mon what do you have to lose," 

"If you say so," and the man departed from Ember in search of sticks. I then knelt and looked the sticks in the eye. Just then, sparks ignited and caused embers to form from beneath the mass, then a body of dancing incandescence evolved from the embers. The fire was burning brighter, just as my soul was burning brighter. 

I remembered to write a note telling the man how to start a fire, The real way. I honestly didn't know how just looking something in the eyes could cause rapid oxidization from nowhere. I sometimes considered it as my superpower, although, people would often make fun of me for that but I didn't care. "One day, I'm gonna give them a firey-flagellation of a backside," I said in an aggravated tone. I left the note near the pile of cinders and dashed off to school.  

The man came back with his pile of sticks and a face of disbelief as well. "Where did she go?" thought the man. Then, something caught his eye. It was the note that I left him. he dropped his pile of sticks and picked up the note. 

"Hm, 'how to start a fire?' This should be interesting," 

How to Start A Fire 

  1. Get a pile of sticks and create space in the middle of the pile.
  2. Assemble a circle of rocks on the outer layer of the sticks.
  3. make some sort of 'teepee' out of the pile of sticks.
  4. search for some grass, twigs, and leaves. Put them in the middle of the pile.
  5. You can choose to light the pile with a lighter or a match, or you can choose to make a fire the REAL way.
  6. To make a fire, get to sticks and scratch/rub them together. sparks should ignite and grow slowly but surely. 
  7. Toss more sticks and twigs in the fire for growth.
  8. Blow on the wood and cinders to activate the fire and make replenish its size. 
  9. Congratulations. You have made a fire. (You can thank me later). 


"Huh. So this is how I make a fire...there's nothing to lose I guess," 

So the man followed the instructions that were listed in the note, and to his surprise, it worked. 

"It worked...IT ACTUALLY WORKED! Haha!" the man shouted and danced gleefully. 

"So Ember's her name...huh. No wonder she had a love for fire," and since that day, the man never forgot her. 


"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh" I was late for class...again, but I didn't care. I kinda had a rep. for being late. 

"Ms. Seraphina, you're late again," 

"Yea, um, sorry 'bout that, and by the way, I go by Ember," I replied sarcastically. 

The teacher scoffed. "Look, I don't care what name you go by, just plant your butt in that seat," 

I sat in the back of the classroom legs up and crossed on my desk, laid back and pretty chill. 

"This is the 4th time this week, Seraphina—"

"It's Ember," 

" God, I'm sick of this," 

"Well, I'm sick of you," 

"Excuse me, what did you just say?!"

"Am I timid, or are you just deaf? I said I'm sick of you, or do I have two heads?!" 

"That's it! Detention! Just...just vanish from this classroom! Get out!" 

"Gladly," I slowly (and purposefully) left the class like a slowpoke.

"Hey teach,"


"Do stuck-up people like you go to detention too?" I heard snickering in the corner. 


"Alright, alright, I'll go, geez," I snickered as I went down the hall to detention. Honestly, I'd rather be anywhere but Mrs. Vaghn's class of complexity. I dashed to the detention room. There, I found a person I wasn't surprised to see. 



"What brings you here,"

"Pushed a kid down the stairs. You,"

"It's my fourth time being late, plus I roasted a teacher," I said snickering.

"You freakin' roasted a teacher?! That's dope," the guy laughed.


"It's Zeke, fire girl,"


That's my best friend, Zeke. We've known each other since we were in diapers, and we practically share the same awe for fire. Especially me. Detention lasted for nearly half the school day. At least I was in time for athletics. I dashed to the locker room and quickly changed into my uniform, and sprinted to the gym. 

"Hey, coach, sorry I was late, I had—"

"Detention, I know. This behavior will not be tolerated, understood?" said the coach.

"Yessir," I replied.

"Good, now sit,"

"Wait, what?" 

"You're benched, Jaxon," 

"But coach I—"

"Oh, for crying out loud! Don't make me repeat myself twice!" 


I couldn't believe the coach had to bench me. What did I even do wrong?! I was only tardy and getting real with stupid Mrs. Vaughn. Is that a crime?! Ugh! If I had some sort of supernatural power, perhaps, fire powers, I'd burn EVERYONE in this school to a crisp. My anger and fury were building up inside me. I tried to hold everything in because I knew that if I erupted in front of the coach, I'd be deemed for doom. In other words, I'd be kicked out of the team. 

I watched as the team played and played, fought and fought. Basketball has always been my favorite sport. There's just so much power in dribbling an ordinary basketball. Ironically, sometimes I'd be dribbling, and would actually set a basketball on fire...with my hands. It cost tons of money to replace them, so the school administration had had a fundraiser to raise money for newly renovated fireproof basketballs. 

And the best thing I could do was laugh. I was benched for the rest of the athletic period and finally went home. As soon as I got back, I dropped my bag on the floor and slammed the door of my room. That went by so fast that I didn't even know my mother existed that day. I had a dark cloud over me. Rain and thunder, I was raining fire that day. I pulled the covers over my head and shut my eyes tightly. 

Just then I heard a knock on the door. 

"Go away, mom," 

"What's going on in there,"

"Nothing, just go away,"

"Can I come in?"

"NO, I'm doing homework and I need to concentrate," 

"yea, mhm, 'kay, I'm not buying it, something's wrong," 

"What do you want,"

"I want to know what's going on,"

"NOTHING is going on! Now can you PLEASE just, go for crying out loud!"

*Sigh* " Fine, sorry, I'll go now," 

"Thank you...!" I said in an annoyed voice. 

I knew what I had to do to teach EVERYONE that opposed me for the way I am. I'm gonna teach 'em a lesson, and the lessons' gonna teach 'em good. 

                           The Next Day...

I got up feeling determined. I put on ripped black jeans and wore a black hoodie, then slipped on some white kicks. I did my hair in two french braids and ran out the door. 

"Bye, hunny," 

"Stay cool, love ya," 

"What kind of idiot would tell me to 'stay cool'?" 

"because 'stay cool' is the idiot," 

"She does have a point...what did I ever do to have such a smart daughter." 

I arrived at school, this time appearing in a good-girl-teacher's-pet-kind-of-way, and all the teachers were shockingly surprised. 

"Am I hallucinating?" said one teacher "This was the girl from yesterday, right?" said another. 

"I think I'm seeing double," replied another teacher. 

"I think I'm psychologically ill," responded the coach. 

As soon as the clock hit 12, it was free period, also the time when these stuck-up-good-for-nothing-bullies came and picked on me. I sat there, willingly waiting, a sly smile. I looked okay on the outside, but my motives were mischievous. Just then, 1 girl and 2 guys walked up to me.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here," said bully #1.

"Oh, yea, it's 'Cinder girl,'" said bully #2.

" More like Cinderella. Hey, do you do chores, like, around the house, you know, cook and clean," snickering were heard everywhere, and I darkened my face dark clouds grew bigger. Then Praxina, one of my so-called bullies, laughed, and make it look like she felt bad for what she said. Tch. that she-devil.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Seraphina—"

"It's Ember to you,"

"Whatever. Ooh! I like your outfit...all black. Matches your soul," 

The time is near.

"Heeeey, Seraphina, what do you get for Christmas? A pile of coal," Now there was more laughing. 

"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'don't play with fire'?" 

Then, I arose. "You're the one to talk," Praxina scoffed.

"Don't play with fire, or the fire will play with you...in a not-so-pretty-way," 

"What the heck,"

My anger was building up so much, that I started feeling power running through my veins. My hands lit on fire, the dancing incandescence I always pictured in my dreams. 

"I suggest you all step away before anyone gets hurt," 

"Pfft, and what can you do," 

I pointed to Praxina, and fire shot from my hand to her head.

In less than 3 seconds, she turned into a pile of ashes. Everyone gasped in horror and shock. 

"Shoot everyone that opposed me," I said. My voice like thunder or an erupting volcano. Balls of gas targeted everyone that came contrary to my existence, and they became piles of ash. With power still infinitely running through my veins, I, Serepina (Ember) Jaxon stood my ground.

August 14, 2021 03:20

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