The Never-Ending Fire

Chapter One

I began to walk away from the house. Soon the grey mist from the night before had covered it so I could no longer see it. Still I couldn't remember what it was. My memories was so hard to reach, so blurry. It was like a dark cloud had covered everything. I couldn't remember much from before the fire, just some sounds and shapes. And they faded away when I tried to study them.

"But which matter has they anyway, the past aren't important for you. Only the fire is..."

 

As usual, the voice was right. I stopped trying to remember. Why should I. My feet walked slowly towards a gate. The mist wasn't so thick there, it seemed. But it was thick enough to cover a tiny stone. My left foot hit the stone, and I fell to the ground. My knees were cut by the hard ground, and soon some drops of blood fell. My first reaction was pain. Then I got angry. The stone was almost round, covered with ash. I picked it up, and sent it a hateful gaze, and was about to throw it away. Then, suddenly, the fire began to glow. The glow was golden-like, as the flames had been. At first I was about to throw the stone anyway. But the stone began to glow stronger. Th glow was hypnotizing, I couldn't look away. Suddenly the stone started to melt. Glowing, red drops of stone fell down at my hurt knees. The drops mixed with the blood, and soon, my knees was healed. Only bare, pale skin was left.

"You made it melt. You made it become lava..."

 

At first I disagreed. But I knew that it was right, it was me. Now the stone was just melted, and glowing strongly. But the heat didn't bother me. The melted stone didn't hurt or burned me at all, no, it seemed to heal me in some way. A small breeze lifted my hair. Hair?  But my hair had burned to ash... I wasn't confused for long. Of course not, the fire would never hurt me. Never...But still I had this memory... Which memory? I couldn't remember it anymore. But my concentration had lost and the stone had now cooled to a black stone-like mass. Not as hard as before, and it seemed to be lighter. Confusing. But not as confusing as the melted stone that had healed me.

"The fire is just nice, warm and beautiful... Nice and warm... Not dangerous or destroying at all. We should help people, burn them, so they can understand too. Understand how fire really is. A little pain is just good for them too...

 

I smiled. The voice was just right. And I should help it to make people understand. Help it to burn them. Because I immediately understood that it needed me to help it. That was just right. Like everything about that voice. All confusing thoughts vanished from my mind. Just right... A small pain was good... Make them scream... Yes, the voice was so right. My eyes closed as the voice filled my head with a vision.

It was night. The moon was covered by clouds, and the stars t. Only a small campfire lightened up the darkness in the forest. A small flame stretched for the sky, like it wanted to join the stars there. But not even the stars was as beautiful as the campfire. Maybe it was small, but every single flame glowed with different species of orange and red. They had and aura of gold, so beautiful. Soon a piece of wood was thrown into the fire. At first the flames seemed to be weaker. Then the wood began to burn. Flames made it glow, and some sparks flew up into the air. As stars, but more shiny. Now the flames was stronger, the golden aura was bigger. Hypnotizing... The darkness was lightened up a bit, and a man was shown. He seemed to be old, his hair was snow white, and he moved stiffly. Right now he just looked into the flames, his eyes reflected the glow. A small flame grew bigger than the other, and spread to the man's left leg. He gasped, and it spread more. Soon his left leg was totally on fire. The flames at him lightened up the dark more than the campfire had done before. Beautiful...

 

I sighed as the vision disappeared. The sight had been so beautiful, and the glow so strong. The burning old man didn't bothered me. He was lucky, not everyone was burned by the fire. Another sigh escaped my lips, but of jealousy this time. The fire had burned him, and not me. I wanted the fire to come to me, like it had came to the old man.

"Don't be jealous my little flame. The fire are always with you. No other people are like you. You are special..."

 

Suddenly the jealousy disappeared. The voice was right. The fire preferred me, not the old man. A smile appeared in my face. The fire liked me. Then I heard something from behind. Quickly I turned around, and stared into the grey mist. A small breeze lifted it, and I saw a small, but similar figure. Curious I walked neared. Who was that. The voice was completely still, but I could feel that it was careful. There was something about the figure that made it careful. And the figure was so similar...

This is my first story on wattpad, so please comment Things I could make better (: It might go a bit to fast some places, but I'm doing my best. And I know, my spelling is terribly wrong sometimes....  English isn't my first language xD The updates might be very slow, because I might be really busy sometimes. In reality, only a few people did actually die in the great fire of London, but I changed that a bit in my story.

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