Burn Me

04: The Test

Lily Ardeath

There's a list of questions people ask when they first meet you. You know, first day in school, orientation for a sports team, group activity during a business conference. It's the simple stuff like favourite colours and ideal dream jobs. Preferred foods and time consuming hobbies.

I have answers to most of them. They're only surface level and I'm quite good at staying afloat on said surface. The amount of times I've had foster parents ask me what I like to do for fun or my fantasy dream house— is an uncanny number of times.

Now I don't blame them obviously, the majority of them are making conversation the best way they know how. I mean you don't go asking a 7 year old girl her life story on the first night of having her stay in your guest bedroom. I've learned over the years of my travelling that the best solution to the surface level list of questions— is to answer short and sweet.

If you say something too touchy or political then it becomes awkward— if you say something too basic and over used— you're unoriginal. So you've got to find the perfect sweet spot of how to answer. Luckily, I've had many chances to rehearse which answers work best— and I've narrowed it down to a T.

My favourite colour is yellow.
My dream job is to work with people.
My personal hobbies are exercise, music, movies, and baking.
My favourite movie is Harry Potter and Interstellar— their pretty old films, no one ever wants to know more when I mention them.

I've got my responds ready to go, I know what tone to use when I say them(which is typically hard for me), how to phrase them so I cater to my audiences maturity level— adults vs kids, and what level of confidence to use when I answer.

It's all a science you see? Knowing who's around you and making sure that however you answer— gets you in the family's good books. Most of them like me at first— because of the way I answer the surface list of questions. But not the Cyreen family, no they're different. Much different. Non of the families I've been with have ever asked me the questions they ask me. That's how I knew they were different, that's when I knew I wanted to stay with them.

How on Earth do I manage to lie to my own fucking journal? Literally no one else reads it, oh well I'm not scribbling it out now, I've got other things to do. I flip back to the very first page of the black notebook, where it read;

# of times uncontrolled: 221

# of times controlled: 62

The pencil markings underneath the numbers are quite noticeable, I find myself changing the number each day. The second number has stayed at 62 for quite a long time however, so it's easier to read at first glance. In respond to my new numbers, I tossed my notebook to the side of my folded left leg and placed my hands on the tops of my knees.

The sunrise washed over my room as lines of red and yellow streamed through the sky, I mean I didn't necessarily lie when I wrote I like sunrises more— I just lied about why I do. Wait no— no I like sunsets just as much. See this why I answer it everyday... to see the results.

I closed my eyes and focused on the blue butterfly. Every time I practice, I envision it dancing in the pitch black sky, flapping its delicate wings in bliss as it heads for its next rest stop. With a deep breath in to my diaphragm, and a deep breath out from my nose and belly— I throw my energy into it.

Focusing on the thought of seeing its' wings light on fire, catching the burning orange flames. I don't want to hurt it, merely make it keep flying but with the flames still confidently swaying with it. It's a beginner tool used for those with elemental powers— first is mediation and peace of mind— then it's focusing on a place or thing that brings you happiness.