A/N: Welcome to my new story. It's going to be a collection of one-shots that follow Natasha throughout her life, starting from when she was five years old.
Fire is hot.
That is all she can think about as she stares into the flames, all logic and reason gone from her brain. There's something fleeting, a shadow of a lesson learned in school about what she should do, but her head is spinning and it's gone.
The head of a china doll explodes on the floor of her room, or what used to be her room and is now a pit of dancing orange and yellow and red and it's so loud.
Natasha wants to cry but she can't, so she opens her mouth to scream but she starts to cough and cough and cough.
This is what it feels like to be popcorn, she thinks as the ground rushes up to meet her.