Little Fire Girl

This is an assignment I did for my Lang. Arts class, we were assigned to write a small scary story (5 sentences per paragraph; 3 paragraphs) and I came up with this, I decided to put it on here because I liked the idea I got, so... Read&Review it please! :) ~Edit~ I've decided to continue something with this, hope you'll like it! :)

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  It was late at night when the British men entered into the quiet street. They pulled up to a small, eeriely adorable house. *Knock* The harsh knock on the door created an echoe throughout the streets. The door opened slowly to show a small girl, at the age of about 8, she stood holding a pale cotton teddy bear, dear to her chest. "Why hello are your parents home, little one?" One man asked in a thick british accent. "Mama and father are at a party right now." She said in a small, finely laced, british voice. "May we come in?" Another asked, flashing his police badge in her sleepy eyes. "Ok" She responded, meekly opening the door for them.

They strode into the house, gaily walking to surround the little girl. "What did your parents say before they left for the party?" The man from before asked, getting down on his knees to make eye contact with deep blood-red eyes. "They said," She hesitated, if only for a second, but it wasn't recognized as she continued. "To take care of the house." The men gave her a smile and patted her head, treating her like a baby, they responded in small tones. "You're doing well." The police walked around for a while, treating the girl with such inferiority it would drive some mad, but no, not the girl, she remained calm.

After at least an hour of searching around the house, the little girl took them to her parents room to show them her mothers precious pearls. The officers came into the room, joyfully gazing over the adorable pictures of little girl posing in a garden on her mothers dresser. "I'll go steam some tea." The little girl sounded out, closing the door lightly behind her. Walking down the stairs, her eyes looked back at the house for a brief second, before putting her hand on the cold doorknob. She walked out, into the cold night and felt the brisk wind hit her face, when she looked back, only to snap her fingers.  As if on cue, the house burst into flames as distinct, anguished cries rose their way from the burning silhouettes, shrouded in a blanket of smoke and fire. The girl gained a slight smirk before commenting calmly, "Actually, They said if you came, to make sure you were nice and warm." Turning, the girl left, leaving screams, sirens, and yet not a single trace that she knew what was going on.

The sky was fully lit when a small girl strode down the busy street. No one knew where she was headed, and as she looked forward, no one would've guessed she didn't either. The look in her eyes, rather, the absence of a feeling, gave a feel of a doll, strolling quietly along the dusted roads. The town itself was a dust bowl, the roads covered with a fine layer of sand. The only way out of the town being a small path that led to a city, one that was quite the opposite, raining almost everyday. It was surprising to find the two areas so close to each other, even with them being exact opposites. The girl halted, and acutely turned her head to the side, when her stomach growled, expressing it's hunger. She took a glance to her left to see a small, but quaint yellow stripped shop selling cookies, candy and ice cream. Walking up loftly, she strolled through the door and took a seat at a small, pink painted table. "What can I get for you, young chap?" A high-pitched Irish tone rang in her ear. Looking up, she faced a short and rosy cheeked mousy girl. Saying nothing, she pointed to a picture that seemed to have grabbed her attention. "Oh, so you're a chocolate lover, eh, sweethart?" The waiter responded. "That'll be the chocolate brownie, right?" The girl nodded, sending the waiter off to her work.

The shop was warm and inviting, in contrast to the dirtied streets outside that reeked of an ill disposition. The walls were painted a bright yellow with pink stripes that played along with the stickers of fruits hanging off the walls. The little girl observed the room carefully, there seemed not to be an ounce of depression or a sign that it