Scorched

There had been so many fires lately. I honestly wasn't sure if the Kingston Fire Department could keep up. Just now, I was watching the news on my television, and they were reporting yet another fire, one down at the health clinic. Nobody died, maybe due to luck, but that wasn't the case for all the others. There had been a total of six fires in the past month alone, with a death count of fifteen.                                                                                                                 

I heard my phone start ringing, a bouncy, irrational rhythm. Swinging my feet off of my green bed, I stood, trying to place the location. Where had        I left it? The windowsill.

Flipping it open, I read the text. Just one of my friends, dragging on about some boy they liked. I typed a quick reply and shut the phone, glancing up and looking out my window. That's when I saw him.

Alyxander Fellows, a seventeen year old eleventh grader like me, had moved into the small, red-bricked house next to mine about a month and a half ago. I didn't know him well, only that he had some...issues. He held something in his hands now, something that illuminated his features- ruffled blond hair, tense, angular jaw. I squinted, leaning forward slightly, gasping quietly when my suspicions were confirmed.

In his hands, a small yet powerful flame flickered, yellow and orange, and blue at its base. I stared at it for a moment before it extinguished entirely, cloaking his room in complete and utter darkness.

Shaking my head, I closed my curtains, and shut off the television. The fires were getting to my head. Maybe he had been holding a candle, or a flashlight.

Still, though, dreams accompanied my doubts in sleep, sending me vivid visions of Alyxander, a grin plastered on his face as he set my house on fire.

The next day came along very quickly, and the dream had long since melted away to the back of my mind. I yawned as I made my bed, smoothing out the sheets and duvet, not settling for anything less than perfection. Throwing on a pair of old, ripped jeans and a dark brown t-shirt that matched my hair almost perfectly, I headed downstairs, where the smell of freshly cooked bacon greeted my senses.

After downing my delicious breakfast of bacon, eggs, and orange juice, I boarded the bus that would take me to school. Walking up the steps of Kingston Secondary, I smiled. Big blue and purple posters lined the walls of the hallway, declaring; "It's Time for Spring! Don't Miss The Dance, Tonight In The Gym!" People were crowded around the posters, chatting away about their dresses, dates, and after-parties. I was going, though without a date. Not that I cared- I only went to enjoy the sound of loud music and the flash of colourful lights.

As I was heading to my locker, I overheard something, something that piqued my curiousity and tempted me to eavesdrop.

The door to the principal's office sat slightly ajar, a sliver of yellow light leaking out into the hallway. Pressing myself against the wall left to the office, I strained my ears, and listened.

"You're failing your courses, Alyxander." Principal Brady stated solemnly, as if he were sorry for Alyxander.

"Well, what can I do to pass?" he asked, his voice a yell compared to Principal Brady's.

"There's nothing you can do, Alyxander. You'll have to re-do grade eleven next year. Summer-school may be an option, but-"

"Can't you just pass me? I'll work super hard from now on, I promise." A note of desperation rose with his plea, and I found myself pitying him.