Phoenix Fire: From Witin the Flames

Memories, Memories, Memories...

Chapter 6

“Memories, Memories, Memories...”

I’m back in my room, lying on my bed, dying of boredom.  I’m so tired, but I don’t want to set this room alight... not when Conner’s in it anyway. I didn’t burn anything before... I frown and sit up. Look at the bed, looking for anything burnt or singed... nothing was damaged. I look to the door then fling myself back down onto the covers. Bored bored bored bored bored... so bored. I feel like I’m grounded again, but not in the basement. I sigh. A knock, beep and a click and I shoot up right to see Conner closing the door, looking over his shoulder seeing my sudden movement.

“Sorry, did I wake you,” he says and I shake my head. He sighs running his right hand through his hair. Like he use to do... when I didn’t speak to him. “It would be so much easier if you just spoke” he mumbles, I cock my head to the side and he shakes his head huffing a laugh. “See, my point exactly” I roll my eyes and toss myself onto the bed again, staring at the purple silk draped over the top of my bed into a tent like ‘roof’.  I reach for the silky purple like a baby reaching for a mobile above its cot. The silk could drape itself all around my bed, but it just hung around the foot posts of the bed. I close my eyes, so tired so tired so tired, and fall in to a deep dark sleep, swimming in a pool of memories.

I met Adrian when I was 14, was it accidental or coincidence for or meeting? I’m still wondering that myself really, but I’ll don’t know the answer. It was when a group of students had found out I was a fire freak... pyrokinetic; that they chased me, throwing stones at me. I was so scared; I never thought I could run so fast, never thought I’d make it alive...

I ran. I ran from them, ran for my life. They threw stones at me, some hit me in the back and legs, but one finally hit my head... right in the back of my head near my neck. My head snapped downwards, my right knee wobbled, my ankle twisted. I fell onto my right knee, my left leg followed after. Scraping my knees, skin peeling from them like cheese and greater, I tumbled to the ground and rolled, scraping my elbows.

 I scrambled forward and tumbled down a steep hill into the forest on the outskirts of town. Leaves flew around me, I slid on the fallen autumn leaves; twigs scratched my flesh, clawing at me like my fellow students. Jagged rocks cut my knees and elbows, legs and arms, back and stomach. I rolled to a halt at the bottom of the hill lying face down in the leaves and stay very very still.

“I think she’s dead,” a girl said “she’s not moving and there’s blood everywhere”

“Quick, let’s get out of here!” a boy cried, I heard them run off. It was not until I could no longer hear their feet grinding on the broken gravel above did I move. I looked to the top of the steep hill; saw the way I had fallen and realized I should be dead. The tumbled was covered with jagged rocks and up rooted tree roots. I looked at my arms; they were covered in cut, scratches and bruises... the same with my legs. My left ankle was twisted at a painful angle which I dared not move. I turned over and look at my tattered school shirt and pants, blood oozing from cuts which stung when the wind blew on them; and all I could think of was that mother would not be happy.

I staggered to my feet foot, using a tree for support, my knees burning and stinging with pain. I hobbled through the forest looking for a safer, easier way out of the autumn fallen forest instead of having to climd up the steep hill with a twisted ankle.