Violet's Thorns

Chapter 1

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Hello wattpad. I'm new to this and this is the first story I've written, so comments and ideas and such as to improve it are greatly appreciated. It is also copywritten so...don't copy it. I really hope you enjoy XD !?
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On that day, the sky clouded over in a steely gray sheen. The rain was a constant streem of the regrets and anxieties she felt as she smashed the hinges off the ageing door. It's paint chips withered to the ground like a dying flowers petals, along with the hard clunk of the rusted hinges.

Inside, it's smell was a soft caress that made her shiver with disgust. She walked passed the body of a homeless man whom she was not entirely sure of which he was merely passed out from an over intoxication, or, was even alive at all. Either way, it didn't matter...he didn't look as though he was going to wake up anytime soon.

She hurried, stepping carelessly over the rubbish and debris scattered across the unfinished floorboards. It was this same carelessness that caused her to plunge her foot deep into the molding wood of the staircase. A string of profanities penetrated the musty silence of the abandoned house as she tried to dislodge her booted foot caught on the dampened wood.

Eventually heaving her foot out with a long struggle of twisting and half of the termite ridden wood shavings, she continued up the staircase, this time stepping softly.

The bathroom was only slightly off centre from the staircases mouth. She stepped inside with a careful observation. The four-clawed bathtub was stained with dirty streaks and the toilet clogged with some objectionable brew of body fluids she didn't even want to approach with thought.

The vanity, in a realistic sense wasn't any better, but it was were she intended to begin. She dumped the small backpack she carried with her on the ground and took out a pair of scissors and a razor. She looked deep into what was reflected back at her from the cloudy mirror. Her reflection. Her strange features. Her pale skin. Her luminous eyes that seemed to be the only bout of colour in this ostensibly colourless land scape...and her hair, tumbling long and wild down her back.

She pulled its length across her shoulder and inhaled deeply from it. It smelt like blueberries. A large bang sounded from the window and it made her jump violently. She stepped cautiously across the broken tile floor and peaked out the corner of the window plain. A dead raven twitched in a pool of deep scarlett, it's neck jarred at an odd angle.

She crossed back over to the vanity and looked at her hair, once more, shortly before hacking at it with the scissors, as close as she could to the scalp. The heaps lay asscued across the porcilin sink and she reached back into her bag to retrieve a small bottle of shaving cream. She squirted the foaming mass across the remains of her short and spiked hair and run the razor across.

Sweeping her hands over her head she looked up. The shape of her skull out lined in pale skin and flesh. She hadn't excepted it to be as smooth as it was. She retrieved the bag and pulled out a plastic bottle, tipping it's contents on and around the vanity. With the metal lighter she had in her back pocket, she lit a piece of her hair on fire. Dropping it, she left the room, leaving behind the shaving equipment. She didn't need it anymore.

Back down stairs she headed towards the kitchen. She walked past the crack den set up and towards the oven. The best thing about crack dens was that they had a dodgy yet operational gas system, or to her knowledge at least. She open the gas valve. This was were she had to act quickly. With the same lighter she light the stove top. Pulling out a thick stick and placing it between her teeth, she clamped down tightly. Making sure her backpack was secure on her back she flexed her hands. In an almost surprising movement she plunge her finger tips deep into the flame.

The stick muffled her screams. Tears streaked down her face sizzling on the heat of the surface. She closed her eyes so tight that white began to encircle the edges of her vision. White hot pain streaked up her wrists to arms and finally landing in her chest. The stick began to splinter in her mouth and she spat it out just as she fell backwards. She grimaced, not looking down at her hands. She knew if she did she wouldn't be able to keep a level head. She turned the gas valve up as high as it would go and bolted.

She ran past the homeless man, stopping, only just, considering whether or not to move him. Speeding over the fallen door and jumping down the porch steps, she ran.

When she had reached the edge of the pine woods, the house exploded in a huge fire ball. Not only was the house now going up in flames, but all traces that were left of her. She watched the black smoke rise into the steel clutches of the sky and undsteadily backed away.