Playing with Fire (Published, Sample)

Chapter 1

This is a sample of this book only! Please enjoy. 

Chapter 1

Ever since I can remember, I loved to watch the fire. I always loved how the flames licked and danced up to the sky. I would watch it for hours at family bonfires. Eventually, I learned to control it, to manipulate the movements. And when I discovered it couldn’t hurt me, I learned to create it in my hands. When I didn’t get burned by its touch that’s when my life really began.

I was barely thirteen years old when my parents died in a house fire I couldn’t control. Arson. Not by my hand but by someone else. I was on vacation from school and spending my time with my grandparents in Florida for the summer with my brother.

When we had gotten the call from the police station we all packed up and left immediately. Our grandparents held my brother and me as we cried. There was nothing left of our home. All we had was a few items that were left in a fireproof box on the floor of the closet in each of our rooms. Why they were there we never knew our parents had told us to keep the combination a secret and never let anyone see us open them.

Zhen, my non identical twin, took charge. He took my hand and together we walked through the broken house. I protected him from the burning embers while he led the way to our rooms. We first stopped at his. Zhen and I stood starring at the room that was once his, we surveyed it for anything salvageable, but there was nothing worth taking. Zhen pulled the box from its bolted position in the floor and handed it to me. I took it and held tight as he led the way through the house once more.

We had stopped at my room and lastly we stop at our parent’s room. Their room was just as badly charred as the rest of the home but their picture of the family in a small frame still stood untouched near their bedroom window. I ran to the picture and wrapped it in my arms, holding it tightly as I began to cry once more.

After we rescued the three boxes, we left the ruble of what was once our home. Our grandparents engulfed us in their arms once again and we left the home without a second glance.

Once we were finally safe in our new home, Grandpa and Grandma’s nearly a thousand miles away, Zhen and I sat in his bedroom staring intently at the three boxes and the one picture that survived the blaze.

“If only we were home I could have stopped the flames!” I cried.

“That is why it was burned was because we weren’t there, whoever did this they did it so we wouldn’t be able to stop it. You will get stronger and one day we will avenge their death but not today.” Zhen soothed as he hugged me close to his chest. “What box should we open first?” He asked cautiously.

“Mom always said we opened our own first then theirs. Ours were more important.” I replied to Zhen confidently. She told us this nearly every day since we were able to crawl.

Our mother and father both were very intrigued by what I could do but they never questioned it. I lived with the special skill for most of my life; our families had bonfires every weekend from the day I was born until the day they had died. Most would think that something so... unique as to be able to control fire would make people question. You would think it would make people worried or think that you were crazy; heck, think they were crazy, but it didn’t. People always treated me with the utmost respect. My brother was always by my side and stood confidently protecting me from those in school who wanted to consider teasing me. Yet I could have taken care of myself. I still can, but Zhen always wanted to make sure that I didn’t burn down the school and all the innocent people inside it.

I remember clearly one day just a few days before we had left for our grandparent’s house, I was walking to school; Zhen had been too tired to get up in time for breakfast, so I needed to leave for school by myself. It was the first time in forever that I had left without him and yet it didn’t scare me one bit.