If there was one thing I could avoid for the rest of my life, it would be fire.
Nobody's ever understood my hatred of the burning object. I just despise how it seems to cackle and crackle and get all up in your face; challenging you to take it on in a fight. I won. My parents lost, though. It was too late by the time that the local fire department had arrived. Our house was completely engulfed in flames. I had been sitting by the fence, my parents in the house. They told me to go, to save myself. My mother had the fire extinguisher. My father was using the kitchen faucet. But they didn’t make it out alive. I actually still have their ashes. Since they were already partially cremated, why not just burn the rest? A little of each are sitting in my locket: the only thing I had with me after the fire.
They’d be proud of me. Uncle Alfred and Aunt Jasmine - mom’s brother-in-law and sister - didn't do me any good. No, I took matters into my own hands. I walked out the front door: my biggest (and most important) decision ever. At least I met Dawnette all those years ago. Dawn helped me survive out in the streets. She'd run away from her foster parents, too, but for very different reasons. Dawn was stronger than me: both emotionally and physically. Dawnette... she'd been abused for five years.
I'm really lucky, even though most people wouldn’t say so. It's because of Dawn that I found my way to where I am now. Here, in Osania.
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Playing With Fire
FantasíaMost children are told not to play with fire when they are young. Lyra is one of those children - not that she remembers it at all. She has no parents that she's aware of. For seven years, she's been living out on the streets, wandering, watching, a...