Ｂｕｒｎｅｄ - ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀʜʀᴇɴʜᴇɪᴛ ᴄʜʀᴏɴɪᴄʟᴇꜱ (Under Construction)

Chpt.5: Dream a Little Dream

Charles' POV

I was in the woods, sitting by a pile of twigs and leaves that I guessed was supposed to be a campfire.

I looked to my left to see a little girl, maybe eight or nine, smiling up at a man kneeling directly across from me.

"Okay, now what do we do next?" The man asked, looking to the girl for an answer.

"Um... We twirl the stick on the log?" The girl asked, scrunching her face up as she tried to remember, making the man laugh lightly.

I startled in my spot, frowning at the man. I recognized that laugh, but it was somehow like a vague memory, too distorted to really place in my mind.

"Good. Now, you have to be really fast to get it going, or else the embers will go out." The man told her, demonstrating how to generate enough friction to start a small fire.

"Now, you try." The man said, taking the girl's hands and placing them in the correct positioning before letting go and watching as she scrunched her face up in concentration.

The girl spun the stick between her hands quickly, going as fast as her little arms would allow her to, but she gave up with a huff after a few seconds.

"This is hard." She complained to the man, who laughed again, and suddenly I knew exactly where I had heard it before.

Mr. Stevens.

The image shifted as if it were a television getting a better signal, and I could now see the features of the man. Clean blonde hair, dark brown eyes, and a smile that almost never left his young face. He looked very different from the man I had met before, but I could still see they were the very same person.

"Anything worth your time is going to be hard to do, sweetheart." A feminine welsh voice said from behind me, making me turn to see it was a woman with red hair and startling green eyes. She was beautiful, and anyone would agree that her smile made her more so.

"Why don't we do it the easy way though?" The little girl asked in confusion, and I turned back to see a sight that made my breath catch in my throat.

Warm brown eyes, long red hair, and freckles that dotted every inch of her skin. There was no doubt, I wasn't in a dream; I was in a memory. And it wasn't even mine, it was Lily's.

I watched as the woman, who I assumed was Lily's mother, sat down beside me with a kind smile, looking to her daughter with curiosity.

"And what way would that be?" She asked, brushing the girl's hair away from her eyes.

"With our hands, like magic." Lily smiled, though a frown quickly replaced that when her parents laughed.

"That's not how it works, sweetie. Maybe in your books, but not out here." Mrs. Stevens told Lily, but she didn't seem content with that response.

"But it does. Look, I'll show you." Lily said, her eyes set with determination as she held out a closed fist and then opened it.

Mrs. Stevens screamed when her daughter's hand caught fire, terrified.