Chapter Eight

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burned - grace vanderwaal 











The sun had set a long time ago, but the sky was still lit up with grey clouds. Without the sun, the air had grown chilly, and I had gotten cold even under the weighted blanket Morro had tossed to me. 

My skin was still damp, my clothes still soaking, but drying gradually. At this rate, I would probably catch hypothermia. Most likely, I would catch hypothermia. Morro had snapped at me numerous times in the past ten minutes (which felt like hours) to, "stop the incessant chattering of your teeth before I throw you off the boat again." 

(At least he admitted that he was the one who threw me off the boat.) 

I did my best to calm my shaking bones, but in the end he just ignored them. He better get used to it if he was going to be dragging me behind him for the next while. 

As the long silence hit and it was only the sounds of Morro's wind hitting the water, I made my first decision without the guidance of the passive-aggressive writers hovering their pencils. I would not be Morro's doormat. 

I'd lived the majority of my life doing what I was told, and perhaps it was the reason I turned out to be so passive. But that was the Cloud Kingdom, and nobody really cared about anyone there, however down in Ninjago, things were different. 

People would remember what you did or what you didn't do but what you should've done because they know that their lives are short, even if it's something they don't remember every single day. The things I could do here would actually matter. It felt nice, because as much as people would remember what I did, the ending would be the same. 

It was all or nothing, and this time I would be willing to put everything in. A guaranteed bad ending doesn't mean an unhappy new start. Just a frustrating beginning. 

The flame danced before me, prancing delicately atop the wick of the candle. I was staring so close that my eyes were practically a reflective surface, and you could see a perfect image of the fire in them. 

My father paced impatiently behind me, hands clasped behind his back, lips pressed together in a line. He let out a frustrated sigh, although I knew he wasn't mad. The mats softened his footsteps, but beneath, the wooden floorboards still groaned with the pressure of his weight. 

I didn't dare to tear my eyes from the flicker. It was the first time I had ever seen fire and it was mesmerizing. 

"Why do you think that flame can burn?" 

I turned slightly, blinking at him for a moment before turning back to the candle, ready with my answer. "Fire is a result of adding a concentrated amount of heat to a flammable surface. Then the atoms start to burn up until they snap and-" I made a little 'boom' gesture with my hands "-then they become a gas, and that gas has a reaction with the oxygen surrounding the heat on the concentrated area." 

My father came around my side and sucked in a tiny breath before puffing it out, letting the flame wisp into nothing. I watched as the smoke curled in the air. "Then, tell me, why would the flame go out if I breathe oxygen on it?" 

"Because," I said, scooting to look at him with my legs crossed, "you're not breathing out oxygen. Exhaling would be the proper terminology. You inhale oxygen, and exhale carbon dioxide. We're able to blow out small flames with our breath because the molecules in carbon dioxide are heavier than air, and oxygen makes up about twenty-one percent of our air, so the amount we breathe easily outweighs the surrounding oxygen." 

"So are we taking away the oxygen from the air by blowing out the candle and releasing carbon dioxide?" 

"Technically, no." I held up a factual finger in order to emphasize my point. "Since the carbon dioxide molecules are heavier than air, we're actually pushing the flame away from the wax, which has the wick connected to it. And then the flame has nothing to stay on." 

My father pat my head. "Very good." 

I smiled wide. Brightly. That was the last time I ever saw fire. 

I blinked. My eyes were droopy, and the sky was suddenly dark, and I was cuddled in a corner, bundled in the blanket. At this very moment, I remembered how comforting that flame was. I still had that memory stuck in my brain, replaying every now and then. I never knew what was so mesmerizing about the chemical reaction, but it had always fascinated me. 

The kids used to tease me in the kingdom, calling me a pyromaniac. I never minded, really. However, as much as I was in the mood to reminisce...my eyes drifted back to Morro. He looked flammable enough. 

I chuckled at the thought. Never had I thought about setting someone on fire. He was obviously sensitive to water (for some reason). 

I wanted, not to burn him, but...But I was angry. I wasn't permitted to show much emotion when I was a princess in the Cloud Kingdom, however down here? I could be anything. And with no one writing anything for me, I could be whoever I wanted to be. 

Playing with fire was a dangerous game, and I couldn't wait to get started.  


UNEDITED 

why am i only good at science in fanfiction wtf 

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