An Unexpected Trip

Chapter 19

Pieces are falling into place! Next chapter will be in Thranduil's pov.

Milana's POV:

Everything was on fire.

I watched in horror as my light pink curtains caught in flame and my collection of stuffed toys burned until they were nothing but ashes.

I screamed when the flames spread to my paralyzed form laying on my twin-sized princess comforter.

I cried out in fear when the fire only tickled my legs and I raised my hands out of instinct to protect my face from being burned.

A sudden ,small, burst of bright red flame shot from my palm and obliterated  my far bedroom wall.

"Daddy! Mommy! Help!"

My tiny hands were fisted into tight little balls as I wrapped my arms around my shaking legs, curling up into a ball.

Tears poured down my four-year-old cheeks and the thick smell of smoke and burning wood filled my nostrils.

What was happening?

How did my room catch on fire?

In the next instant, my bedroom door went flying right off its hinges and straight through my window as daddy barged into the room and scooped me up.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I buried my face into his solid chest, my tiny hands fisting his blue polo shirt.

I didn't know how we went from being in my blistering room one second to being outside on the street, twenty blocks down from our house in  he next second.

Daddy and I watched as the rest of our house burst into flames and we didn't follow the fire truck when it sped past us thirty minutes later, its sirens blaring for all to hear.

I looked up at daddy to find his once cool chocolate brown eyes were now a hard amber, and his square jaw was clenched.

"Daddy? Why is our house on fire?"

It was as if my toddler voice had broken him out of some sort of spell, for his jaw unclenched and his eyes softened as they took in my still shaking form with silent tears streaming down my face.

He sat us down on the curb before bringing a large finger  up to my cheeks to gently wipe away my stray tears.

"It was an accident, Mili', nothing more. A wire must've sparked somewhere and caused the fire to start."

At the tender age of four, I desperately wanted to believe him, but my mind kept replaying the single image of that fireball coming from my hands.

"Daddy. Is something wrong with me?"

Daddy pulled me into his arms so I couldn't see his eyes , and gently soothed me by rubbing small circles on my back.

"No, baby girl. You're very special.Just like me. And there's nothing wrong with that."

I only nodded into his chest and could already feel myself falling asleep from all the stress and panic I had just experienced.

This memory  already fading into nothing more than a  buried nightmare.

**********************************

The shouts of "fight!Fight!Fight!" could be heard all over the playground at Brandenbatt Elementary School.

But the boy who was currently shoving me around the makeshift circle of sixth grade onlookers seemed oblivious to the growing crowd.