If I could hold a slip of paper,

A letter, a picture, a receipt of my time,

I would be richer than most,

A memory worth more than my being,

A memory to prove,

I was here.

I hated how he said my name,

"Flame Princess"

I hated how he reassured me,

"You're not evil! You've got a good heart."

I hated how he believed in me,

"It was an accident, you didn't mean it."

I meant it, I swear I did.

I sighed as he placed a foil wrapped hand on my arm, squeezing it for comfort. A sign of affection so small meant so much between us; few words were exchanged at times like these. The smell of rotting flesh made him vomit; I crinkled my nose at the sight of something so painful. We made our way out of the forest to the tree house. I tracked foot prints that they would later replace with new wood or cover with tin foil. He could sense the distress in my walk slow and heavy, followed by side long glances. I wanted to apologize but my mouth didn't form the words, even without saying it he knew. We stood there unmoving for a while our minds processing today's events. I almost said 'I'm going home' but instead I turned to face him. He gave me a weak smile; I thought I had returned the favor until I realized I stood unmoving, face somber. I nervously adjusted my dress before turning and leaving. I walked to my home leaving a burnt crisp path behind me.

I screamed in frustration, sparks flew hitting a nearby bird's nest setting the small home ablaze. I was destruction itself a creation only meant to destroy what others found beautiful, I would only be remembered for what I ruined, who I killed. I slipped into my house the fire comforting me with its flickering; it never kept me warm. Like a sheer shirt, for decoration never for proper use. I lit my candles letting the aroma soothe me; I slowly drifted off letting my vision go black.

Knock

Knock

Knock

My vision was blurred as a glint of light flew through the cracks of my home. I hopped up hand full of flames only to be faced with a small sheet of metal. I drew closer and touched a finger to it, retracting in fear of burning it before I understood what it was for. It left no mark, I gasped and sighed squeezing it and holding it to my chest finally being able to grasp something so different. It was cold, no freezing! I turned it in my hands examining every inch of it; only after the awe had faded did I realize words written on it.

Hello!

I've seen you looking distressed, but do not worry; you lead a great life although you may not think so.

I have admired your courage and hope that we can continue sharing this conversation.

If you need to reach me just write a response and set it outside, I will receive it and happily respond to it.

I look forward to your response fire woman!

Sincerely,

A friend

I cried. The boiling magma ran down my face as I grossly sobbed into the slab. I had never felt so alive, so real, so important. I wiped my face smiling and slid the piece under my burning dresser. A memory I would surely keep for as long as the world would let me. I ran outside and found a flat stone the size of my head; although large I would write my reply back and leave it outside tonight. I carefully burnt my reply into the stone ignoring everything that surrounded me.

As it got darker I grew impatient. I set the stone down outside; my work carefully thought out and precise. I smiled at the thought of another letter, like an ancient ruin that would grow old and tell ones history; I would be remembered for something. I went back inside and lay there until I grew weak and fell into a sleep the smile never leaving my face.