Only Fire

Chapter 1

Rain. I listened to its consistent tapping on the roof. As the storm gained power, the rain echoed around my bedroom as if being played through surround sound speakers.

I've heard that this sound was supposed to be relaxing and put even the most stubborn of insomniacs asleep within seconds. I was hoping it would work for me as well. I decided to lay here longer, listening to the nightmarish water droplets pound on the wooden slats of the roof. But the repetitive beats of the annoying drums only drove me to the brink of insanity.

To a firebird, the rain was my enemy. The icy wetness was enough to erase my fire. Even on the summer days those wet droplets from the clouds above were only chilly bullets that I would need to dodge. 

At least I was under the security of this roof. That was until a cold droplet landed on my forehead and cascaded into one of my open green eyes. It left a trail of red skin like that of sizzled bacon.

"Great," I said as I rubbed the cold, wet horror out of my eye before I could go blind. With blurry vision, I tried to focus on the wooden ceiling above me. 

"Found you," I said.

Through the fuzziness, I had found the cause of my sudden misery. A small crack with beads of artic water slowly penetrated it.

With a graceful grunt escaping my mouth, I rose from my spot on the bed. Sleep was not meant for me. My eyes drifted over to the clock on my nightstand and read the illuminated numbers. Five thirty in the morning. It was almost time to get up anyway. I might as well fix the broken ceiling.

As I grabbed the knob to the closet door in the hallway where the toolbox waited for me, the wooden door fell off its hinges. A deep sigh escaped my mouth as I saw just one more thing fall apart in this old wooden house. I propped it against the frame, made a mental note to fix it later, and returned to the bedroom.

I steadied myself on the bed to reach the tiny crack. I needed to fix this now before the small leak would become a giant disaster. As the mundane work kept my body busy, my mind wandered down various rabbit holes of thought.

It wasn't enough that this was a cold September rain. But a cold September rain in the rural countryside-that was out of my element. As if the universe despised me, it decided to change the weather to cooler temperatures sooner rather than later. I preferred the sun and the beach. But I guess this was what I deserved as they told me my purpose laid in the northern area.

In a few minutes, my patch was fixed, although the shelter was not. I glanced around at the dump I lived in. Suitable enough to stay out of the elements, embarrassing enough to never invite company over. Luckily, I had no friends, family, or boyfriend, so that was never a problem.

Few furniture and no pictures. The lack of homeliness was sad for everyone except for me. Why would I make a house into a... home...  when starting from scratch was my specialty. Even in thought, the unmentionable word made me nauseated. 

I walked over to the fractured mirror, tied my inky black hair into a bun showing off the shades of fire that hid underneath and went down the rickety stairs to eat breakfast. One glance out the window and it was apparent that this day was not meant for a firebird.

Breakfast was a part of my usual routine that I refused to miss. A morning's delight. The smile rose on my sullen face as I consumed the hot coffee and warm toast. It was enough to heat my insides. I realized then that when most matters were out of my control, at least I could control my happiness.

"Flammable." I laughed as I read the tag on the red sweater when I pulled it over my head. Ironically, I'd be okay if my sweater caught fire and honestly, I would most likely be the cause.