Fire.

Some people call it dangerous.
Others say fire kills.

But they're wrong.
Fire is not dangerous nor does it kill.

It is just how people use fire that makes it dangerous.

Fire gave us our first weapons.

It is funny how much people who do not understand our greatest friend can misjudge it so wrongfully.

For some, the orange colored heat source delivers warmth and comfort.
Others it delivers sorrow for the ones they have lost to the tongues of searing heat.
For me it delivers satisfaction, for I know the victims from my life of crime were disposed of with it.
I know that the victims corpses didn't get burned to ash, that is probably how they found me.
Back then I would have used man's earliest weapon to escape, but now my heart nor soul can't take it anymore.

For when I stare into those orange and white tongues of heat as they lick the heavens, all I see is the pain it has caused me.
I see my family, my friends, even the love of my life; they were taken from me by my former gang.
It was this that drove me to a life of killing, burning houses, organizations, even entire towns.
It gave me satisfaction as I listened to the screams of pain as people were burned alive.
It was music to my ears.

Now as I stare into the red hot coals, I see my pain and regret.

If only I stayed isolated. I could have avoided causing this pain to the ones around me. Why did I decide to make friends.

If my wife could see me now, I wouldn't blame her if she took the kid and left.
Never wanting to see me again.

I thought my life would get better after I married her.
I thought it would be even better once she delivered a child to me.
But I, of all people, should have known, that I can never be happy.

That's all my life had been.
Just one big shit pile.
I met my first friend on my first year of high school.
We were friends all throughout our high school and college years.
But we eventually grew apart.
We promised to stay in touch, but we never did.
I got my second friend during my third year of high school.
Just like my first friend, we were friends all throughout our high school and college years, and we eventually grew apart.
Again breaking our promise to stay in touch with each other.

We all went our separate ways.
One become a world famous singer. Known throughout the land as The Sweetheart Bell.
The other became a famous dancer.
Known as the The Twirling Bloom.

Me I became known as a criminal who killed my own family.
I wasn't fair.
I was always nice to others even when they were an ass to me.

But then again.
Life is never fair. Is it.
It's sorta ironic, you know.

How I spent my whole life trying to belong.
And it was that drive that drove me to this.

I meet my wife during the same year.
We were together for about twenty-five years.
It was at that point I was gifted with a beautiful baby.

You know, now that I think about it.
I don't even think the child's mine.

Heh. Even now I'm still a virgin.

That may be why she always had to “work late”.

But I did not care if she was cheating on me or not. I loved her so much that even if it was not my child, I would still love and raise it as if she was mine.

But of course the universe's sick joke decided to take it all away from me.

An old gang I once rolled with came asking for my leadership again.
Of course I refused.
They begged me to return to the gang, but I refused.
That's when they killed my family, my friends.

At this point I shut down.
I thought my life was over.
But I did not give up.
In fact as I watched the fire burn down my house with my family still inside;
My mind snapped.

I went crazy.
I tracked down the gang and returned the favor.
One member at at time.

I worked my way up the ladder.
Killing anyone who got in my way or refused to help.
I found out that my friends, the ones who left me at college graduation, were the boss when it was the boss’s turn.

It was this time when I was caught and convicted of the murder of an entire state worth of victims.

The traitors got away scott free, while I was sentenced to death.
The chosen method was by fire.

Ironic huh.

The same thing that caused me to do this, is also how I die.

Looking back now, I knew I should have stayed like I was.

Completely alone, no friends, a family unknowingly pushing me away.
I never should have given up my isolation.

Maybe if I had not “come out of my shell”, I would not be getting ready to get burned alive.

Now as my final words, I speak eight simple words.

“My pain has finally come to an end.”

And with that I was sent into the fire.
As the searing heat from those beautiful orange tongues of fire wrapped me in its embrace, I was happy.
I didn't care if I would never get to see my family and friends again or not.

All I cared about was the fact that I was not gonna be a part of the universes sick joke anymore.

And that gave me true happiness.
I was finally at peace.

I didn't even scream while I was embraced by the fire.
I just closed my eyes are smiled my last smile and left this world.

Leaving my body to my only true friend.
Returning to the beginning.

These are my final thoughts from me, Scootaloo the burner.

Author's Note

I thought of this as I stared into a fire in the snow.

Don't ask about the fire, it's my fire.