Little Miss Neverseen

Chapter 1

Buzz...buzz...buzz...BUZZZZZ.

I was woken up by the buzzing of my tiny alarm clock. Shoot, it was already time to get up for school.

Three years ago, I would've put my pillow over my head to block out the obnoxious sound. But now, I don't even have a pillow. Pillows were much too flammable. I couldn't risk letting it get consumed in my flames.

Yes, my flames. Ever since I was eight years old, I've had this horrible curse. The ability to spark fire with my own bare hands. I don't have a single idea how it was actually triggered. I only know when it started. On my mother's birthday...

She had invited her friends over to our house for a party, like she did every year. But instead of sending me away to my grandparents like normal, she let me stay.

One of her friends brought out a beautiful cake, topped with fresh fruit, and a very intricate looking candle. And when she brought out the lighter to sing Happy Birthday, I'd asked if I could light the candle. With my mother's help, I turned it on. The flame sparked at the end. 

It's beautiful, I remembered thinking. 

But I hadn't known how to properly hold the lighter. And before I knew it,  the tiny fire burned the edge of my finger. 

I dropped the candle as tears pricked at my eyes. I held my hand tight as I thrashed and cried for help. After the shock of the pain though, I had time to think through what I was truly feeling. The pain was still there, but it...wasn't bad. As the fire burned at the tip of my finger, I felt something change. It was the first time I'd ever actually made contact with fire, and it felt almost natural.

The curse was next. As my mother rushed toward me with a bandage, a huge flame sparked over my hand. But it didn't hurt, didn't burn as the other burn just had. Instead, the fire felt as if it was a part of me.

Not thinking anything was wrong, I'd rushed towards my mother. But she eyed the flame in my hand and stepped back. On her face was a look of pure terror. That was the first time I'd ever seen my mother so scared. And the first time I'd ever seen anyone afraid of me.

The fire ability has stuck with me ever since then. And I hadn't gotten too much better with it. Having three years of being with the flames, I was able to gain some control. But fire is such a crazy thing, almost as if it has a mind of its own. Sometimes I'm able to put it out, sometimes I can't. Either way, I like to stay away from most people. If I don't, they'll scream...run...throw things at me. Treat me like the monster that I was.

Speaking of people, I had to face some more today. School was one of the things I dreaded most. It was just a chance to send more people running away. Besides, It's not like an education would matter to me anyway. What would I do with it? Go to college? Get a job? No one would want to hire a "freak" like me.

But here's the crazy thing: I was actually pretty smart for my age. Wait...that was an understatement. I'm eleven years old, and I'm in tenth grade. Meaning I skipped five grades. Technically, I could've skipped more. But my parents have refused to let me do so. They claim that I need more time to "be young."

Again, not that it mattered.

I sighed and rolled out of my bed. Or–whatever you call what I slept on. Because it certainly wasn't a bed. It was just a huge piece of special fire-proof plastic, that wouldn't catch on fire if I were to accidentally spark a flame.

Wiping my sleepy eyes, I walked into my closet. Most of my clothing was fireproof, but I still had some normal fabrics deep in there. I slipped on a regular T-shirt and a pair of jeans before checking myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess. I grabbed a hairbrush and tried to brush through it. But the auburn strands refused to cooperate; so I ended up settling for a messy ponytail. 

Then I went into my bathroom, which was across the hall. I quickly brushed my teeth before grabbing my school backpack and rushing down the stairs to the kitchen.

My father was already gone, but my mother was still home. She was leaning over the old metal toaster that she'd bought many years ago. When she heard me come down, she turned to face my direction.

"Good morning Mom," I greeted her.

"Good morning Lia." she replied, just as two waffles popped out of the toaster. "Oh, um...I made you waffles." 

She put both waffles in a plastic bag and tossed them at me. 

I caught it easily. "Thanks." 

"You're welcome. And Lia?"

"Yes?"

She cringed slightly. "Please don't set anything on fire today."

I sighed, "I'll try mom."

With that, I turned and walked out the door--closing it a little harder than I should have. My relationship with my mother had never been the same after the curse either.

As I walked across the sidewalk, I braced for screams. I knew that I'd never get to school without hearing any. 

Two little boys were playing with toy cars on the pavement in front of me. I didn't know whether or not they'd run, because not all of the small kids knew who I was. But they must've been a part of the group who did know. Because they both darted in the other direction upon seeing me. One of them let out a short, high-pitched, scream. Ah, there was that familiar sound.

Just a day in the life. 

That's the end of the first chapter!!! I hope you all enjoyed it! And I know I've barely even started, but I wanted to take the time to say "thank you" for all of the support I've already received so far! You all are so amazing, don't ever forget it!

Love you all! <3