Disclaimer: whether this is surprising or not, I pretty much own nothing here. The actual text of this nonsense freeverse attempt is the only thing I can claim as mine.

Inspiration: "and now you're burning everything around you" by watching every sunset; Shakespeare's Othello helped this along as well. Title inspired by that of Stephen King's Firestarter.

A/N: This is written for Mew & Mor's Weird Pairings Competition. GinnyDemelza. Beta'd by the lovely Missing Mommy. I give fair warning: it gets quite creepy. Also, this is from Ginny's perspective and (as it may happen often with M&MWP) she is moderately to severely out of character from start to finish.

intrigue

You can't help but notice how that girl

that o-n-e-g-i-r-l

seems to be so perfect:

pretty hair;

bright eyes;

friendly smile.

You're drawn in by her

(just like everybody else.)

Like flies to honey,

Or moths to flame.

&your match has been struck.

X

curiosity

You wonder how that girl

that o-n-e-g-i-r-l

(Part-time student,

part-time Chaser,

full-time friend)

could possibly be

so beautiful.

Auburn hair

-burning in the sunlight-

perfectly curled around

a perfect face.

Lush red lips

stark against alabaster skin.

That |t|h|i|n| figure

With all the curves to accentuate it.

&the flame is glowing brighter.

X

attraction

You cannot deny it now, dear.

It's not just a secret crush.

Those glances at

that o-n-e-g-i-r-l

are a|second|too|long

&they all see it,

&they all know you are falling in.

Maybe, (perhaps),

just maybe

you are falling too far to

c-l-i-m-b—b-a-c-k—u-p.

&oh no, dear!

Now you've dropped that match.

X

obsession

Wouldn't you just love

if your hair was colored as warm as hers

instead of as red as her lips?

Well, you decide,

Why can't it be?

So you change.

Change your hair,

change your makeup,

change your clothes,

even your grades.

Because you want to be

just like her.

That o-n-e-g-i-r-l

with the perfect

e|v|e|r|y|t|h|i|n|g.

Those flames are her

&they're starting to get out of hand.

X

hunger

There comes a point

(you notice)

when being like

that o-n-e-g-i-r-l

.simply.

.isn't.

.enough.

You achieved what you had set out for:

you had become a copy of that

beautiful girl.

An exactreplica;

a new doll, a perfect doll.

(the kind you had always wanted for Christmas.)

&you were finally happy with yourself.

But soon enough, you begin to want

m-o-r-e.

&you know what they say about little girls who play with matches:

t_h_e_y_g_e_t_b_u_r_n_e_d.

x

jealousy

Being a copy of perfection is merely a façade,

&you need to be more than a veneer.

You need to be

that o-n-e-g-i-r-l

&you realize that you will not be satiated

.until. .you. .are.

&now you're surrounded by the fire you started.

X

consumption

As you hold the face of perfection in your hands, you feel

|h|a|p|p|y|

because you know beyond doubt that you are

that o-n-e-g-i-r-l

and now there is no competition.

The beautiful girl that you once desired,

the one that had fascinated you is now gone—

nonexistent.

But even while you're lost in the bliss of this moment,

touching the face of beauty, the body of perfection,

you know dimly

(way in the back of your mind)

that perhaps you have gone too far this time.

You could look;

you could admire;

you could copy,

&you could even obsess, if you were a good girl.

But you know, even as you're holding the face of perfection

inyourhands,

&even now that you've become her

—you've become perfection—

that maybe, (perhaps,)

just maybe,

you should have tried to climb out while you still had the chance.

You remember (-v-a-g-u-e-l-y-) those morals you were brought up by:

thou shalt not steal

yet here you are, using someone else's

facenamebodylife

&you've stolen it from her.

Thou shalt not kill

yet here you are, standing over her body,

staringtouchingfeelingcoveting

&you've killed her just so you could.

Your fire is eating you alive, darling.

Why did you strike the match at all?

X

confession

You haven't moved from that spot

o_v_e_r the b_o_d_y of

that o-n-e-g-i-r-l

when they come to take you away.

You go willingly.

Only, you don't let them take the face

(the face of perfection that you so carefully

sliced off the dead beauty that had lain before you).

Not without a fight.

&you know what, dear?

I told you not to play with fire.

X