Creating Fire

It was just another life.  I was sure it was not my first.  

My parents had left a large enough trust fund to my name that I could travel where I pleased but I had never wished to leave the home I had grown up in.

I never imagined they would find me.  The moment I caught a hint they were on my trail, I didn't think twice; I fled my home of nineteen years, set fire to the only place I had ever called home.

My parents had warned me this day would come; they had told me find their sanctuary when they were younger.  I was a coward not to listen.

Playing with fire gave you a certain ability others would kill for, all literal meaning intended.

Running from a certain fate; maybe the only thing I’d done right was break into apartment 110 that night; the unfamiliar eyes staring back at me freezing my place in time.

It was going to be a long night.