If a person had the ability to see emotions, the scene I gaze at would be easier to describe. All I can see is pain. Horrible, excruciating pain that lasts long after the life of its victim had ended. A tower of flames rises, illuminating the night like a second sun. Heat emanates from the ashes, charring the grass surrounding. As the embers dart towards the heavens, I almost lose myself in a sickening thought.
How could something so beautiful, be so deadly?
I quickly disregard the question, as the answer is quite clear. Beauty has always held a dark secret, hidden in a masquerade. Never mistake beauty for perfection, because all that is beautiful is cloaked in horrible sin. If you allow yourself to be entranced by their enticing facade, it could possibly mean your demise. After all, love is an element that can build you up as easily as it can destroy you. We live to die. We love to hurt.
Smoke arises from the flames and ascends to the sky, darkening the world only slightly. A single scream will sound, echo, then silence all in a matter of seconds. A tragedy that could not be avoided. I am not in danger. I can not be captivated by beauty, as I know it's consequence. We live to die. It is because of me that these people shall reach their destiny.
I do not aim to kill for murder. I am not evil, nor do I deserve to be stopped. The world has been in need of cleansing, and its people need to realize the ultimate goal.
We live to die.
In some cases, we live to burn.
And burn we shall.
You will never find me, for by the time you read this I will be halfway across the world. Or maybe I'll be right behind you. Wherever it is that I am, you will never know. Because each time I strike, it will be more severe. I am a master of my art in the making.
After all, doesn't practice make perfect?
I am hoping that you look forward to my next visit as much as I do. If all goes according to plan, it will be a day that is never forgotten. I will be forever written in history. Once you learn my name, you will never forget it. Some days you will try, but I can assure you that once I am done, no one will forget who I am.
Until we meet again!
-Anonymous

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Teen FictionI started this compilation of short stories in 8th grade, and as I'm approaching my senior year, I've decided now is as good of a time as any to continue it. If you wanna skip to the good stuff, start at "Seasons". If not, feel free to see how my...