Shattered (Completed)

Chapter 13 - Chemical Reactions

It's very odd to be coated in flames.

I blink absently as Evan screeches and scrambles away from me. I don't feel a thing. My vision is coated in yellows and reds and then a little bit of blue. And I suppose if I was to get any more embarrassed. . .

Water is dumped on me. I blink again, spitting out water as it floods my mouth and nose. When my eyes clear, I find Evan holding an empty water bottle, looking stunned and scared. There is no more fire to cloud my vision, only the smell of burning clothing and smoke. "A-Are you okay?" he asks hesitantly. All his muscles are pulled taut and his eyes are wide. He doesn't look burned. But I don't see all of him.

"Of course I'm fine," I growl quietly, wringing my hair out to the side. "You didn't have to dump all that water on me, you know. It was just fi. . . re. . ." I regret my words instantly. 'Just fire'? No. Fire is dangerous if not handled correctly. Fire is painful.

He scoffs. "Just fire?" Evan throws his hands in the air. "Just fire?! A-Alex, it isn't just fire. You just erupted into flames, okay, it isn't just fire. You could have killed me!"

"I-I know," I say, trying to understand this all myself. I was flames. I was fire. But my clothing and skin is fine. Evan is - "Are you okay, though? I know you're not dead, and I don't see any burns, but - "

Evan shakes his head, obviously calmed down. He even takes a deep breath and says, "You just scorched my clothes, it's fine," Looking down, I realize his shirt is literally burnt to nothing, but beneath it, the skin is fine. "I'm sorry if I did that to you. . ." He pauses, as if searching for words as he doesn't meet my gaze. ". . . made you turn into a walking torch," He offers up a small and tired grin.

"Chemical reaction," says a voice. 

Both Evan and I flinch, turning to find that the voice belonged to a female with blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, vaguely familiar with some changes here and there. Her smile reminds me of the dream I had while I was in the Cylinder, and. . .

"L-Lindsay?" I ask suddenly, my voice high with shock. "You're the girl - er, the doctor from the vision I had. And you're the one that Florence told me about. You don't. . . I didn't know you. . . why aren't you. . ?" I can't manage to speak. Why isn't she with Moonhit Co., if that's who she worked with prior to this?

Why is she here, if I strangled her?

I scowl. "You're fake, aren't you,"

Lindsay transforms. What used to be blond hair  is now thick curly red hair, and bounding around her shoulders. Freckles cover her arms, and her nose is pointy, and her clothing is a short pink dress, and she just looks like a brat. And when she twirls, I know she is.

"How did I do, Evan?" she asks, batting her eyelashes at him. Should I feel defensive or grossed out? "I scared her enough, didn't I?"

Evan rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. Clearly, he has no interest in the red-head. "Janice, I told you to stop it. Acting like dead people will not help how people see you." He takes my hand, uncrossing his arms. I don't hesitate to intertwine my fingers with his. 

"What?" Janice asks, mocking a taken aback look. She puts a hand over her mouth. "You mean people see me as some cruel impersonator? Dear me. . . I never thought of it as my ability," Her smile turns to a vicious glare. "God, Evan, will you ever hold up with the girls? It's like it's one every week," She huffs and turns on her heels, looking back at me over her shoulder. "Careful, Alexandria. He bites," And she winks, leaving.

I scowl at her because I feel that to be a logical response. And when Evan defensively grabs my hand, I sigh a little and take my hand back. "Evan, what was that about?"

All he does is scowl in return and shake his head. He seems mad at her - which I understand, because I'm mad at her, too, and she was a jerk. But just because Evan nearly kissed me doesn't mean. . . Heck, I just got here. I just got back to reality. I can't be forming these things yet.

Unless he would be helpful with me getting used to things. And then -

Why am I even thinking about this?

Finally he says, "I dated her before," with a harsh spin to his words, "and when she dumped me, she decided it to be logical to keep taunting me about people from the past, and my present lovers. I don't understand her, Alex, and she. . . I dunno, I think she's jealous."

"We aren't, um, dating, Evan," I say quickly, putting my hands up. He raises an eyebrow, as if curious as to what my explanation would be. "I-I mean, come on, I hardly remember you. I don't know you well. I've been awake for, what, three days?"

"You were out for one, so four now,"  he says matter-of-factually. 

"Anyway, Evan, I just need to muse over this stuff, okay? I'm new to most of this," I give an apologetic smile which only seems to half-pass, because he leaves with a sigh.

Curse you, Janice.

My thoughts rage on and on about Janice, and how much I hate her. Everything about her. And I had seen her for five minutes. Her nose, her smile, her lips, her cheeks, her freckles, her hair, even all the way down to the way she held herself and her ability. It was all just. . . geh. 

And I guess I was asking for it, but my body erupts into flames again.

This time I do feel heat, but it doesn't hurt at all, just a small warning prickle. The flames rage on and I try to stop it by calling up some wind, but my rage is directed to the fire. It fuels it. Builds it up. I can hear Janice's voice in my head: Chemical reaction, chemical reaction, chemical reaction. And I just want to kill her. Burn her into nothing but ashes on the ground. 

The flames reach out and stroke the walls, they burn the bed to nothing, they don't stop. No one comes inside. No one knocks. Or maybe I just don't hear them. . .

I am inhuman. 

This is inhuman. I am a girl of fire, a girl of rage, a girl of despair and heartbreak and most of all confusion. 

Isn't that what makes me human, though?