PYROMANIAC🔥➳ caмʀҽŋ

I - noтнιng вυт ashes

❕❕❕⚠️ нaѕ slight мenтιon oғ
deaтнѕ☠
PS. Lauren's flashbacks are written in Italics
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Sнe нad a мιnd lιĸe a вoх oғ ғιreworĸѕ 🎆 and нandѕ тнaт played recĸleѕѕly wιтн мaтcнeѕ 🔥💀

You had a mind like a box of fireworks and hands that played recklessly with matches. You never knew what true power held unto you, until you see this powerful evergrowing cinder within your hands. And in that moment, you can't stop.

You can't stop even if you tried. Even if the people around you shouts for mercy over the growing flames dancing from your  fingertips. It doesnt hurt you, you're  too enamored by the glowing red amber. Your green irises reflects the hues of  blue,red and orange, radiating brightly from the palm of your hands. And thus, seemed to ignite more fear within the hearts of those who begged you mercilessly for their lives

You like to ignite fear, you like the aura of the fear you held within the hearts of your contenders. That's all you could see the first time you lit the cinder and you recounted the extravagant varying shades of red ached within the woods, furnitures and everything that it made contact with.

That's all you could see. . . you already lost everything, what more do you have to lose? what else do you have to fear for? You've already done the worse of the worse of your action at the age of 12.

IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.

---------------

You recounted your own version of the story, over and over again. You left  the parts that made you seemed much less innocent as you appeared to be, that made them contemplate on whether you're just a miracle kid who survived the burning home of the Jauregui's , or something MORE . . .

something more extraordinary, something more to be feared of . . . a freak, a psycho perhaps.

Yes that's it! A psycho kid that let the memory of their home burned down with each and every one of her family.

It was a good story. . . perhaps It was a good headline in tomorrow's news paper, something to be talked about in this mundane unappealing town you live in. But you didn't tell any of that, you didn't tell any of that because all you could think of is the guilt, more of the fear crawling in your skin, burning you from within.

And in that moment all you could utter, all you screamed is the agonizing pain of losing - losing everything. You jerked from the police car, thrash and screamed. Blood and pain pouring from you even if there Is nothing you could do.

IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!!

//

That was the last of it.

That was the last of it, the police officer's words echoed from your head as the last of your family member was being hollered down across the green medical bed off to the morgue.

It was 3 stretchers. You recalled the hours, the minutes the passing seconds that the blazing fire took as It eventually faded from the siren of  different fire trucks. Thick black smoke billowing as it evaporates, and behold the scene in front of you is nothing but ashes.