Chapter One: FIRE, FIRE!

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Okay, so. Hey, my name is Samus Valantana. I know, I know, that was a very sucky introduction. BUT, the good stuff is buried deep into this story. My story to be specific. So it all started in Sophomore year:

"Ugh. History. Why do we have history again?" I complained, reluctantly taking out my book.

"Because, it's important to know about the past, and what some people have done!" my best friend, Natalie, yelled while taking out her books excitedly.

"What's the point? They're all dead anyway", I moaned.

Natalie gasped,"How dare you! Even if they are dead, they're still important! And some of them still live!"

I groaned and secretly put my earphones in while Natalie kept on going on about how history should be more respected.

Our teacher, Ms. Volderpan, came in with the same weird outfit: an itchy looking scarf, ugly maroon heels, knee high socks, her hair in a messed up bun (it looked like she was attacked by bees!), and a hideous floral dress.

"Alright, get in your seats and shut up while I teach. Oh and you, Samantha, take those things out of your ears, you brat", she yelled, pointing a crooked finger at my face. I hated Ms. Volderpan. She would always teach at the speed of a snail, and give us a detention even if we yawn. She picks on the students, especially me. But this time, she crossed the line. I got up and stood in front of her desk, fists clenched. "WHY DON'T YOU JUST CLOSE THAT DRIED UP OLD MOUTH OF YOUR'S FOR ONCE AND ACTUALLY TEACH, YOU UGLY HAG!" I boomed, slamming my fists on her desk. I felt like I wanted to set her on fire. She simply got up, glared at me, and spat at my face these words,"You don't tell me what to do, you little punk. Now get in your seat before I give you detention." I felt so mad. But right before I was about to yell back at her, she screamed. I looked up, and saw flames. Ms. Volderpan's dress and hair were on fire.

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