A body lay contorted and limp. One arm was stretched towards the ruins of a doorway which now lay scorched and broken. Timbers and ash pinned the body to the earth in a painful bone breaking position. It was a tragic sight.

Like the fluttering of a butterfly's wing the fingers twitched and curled. The chest shuddered as air filled the lungs. Slowly, ash and wreckage falling off in a cloud of black, the body lifted into the air as if pulled by invisible strings.

Emerald green eyes opened to see the full moon cover the midnight sky. A gasp rattled from the young boy's lungs in fear. His burned and soot stained clothes hung from limp spindly limbs  as the boy floated. Tears fell from his blazing green eyes and he panted for breath. As his body rose higher a calm seemed to settle on him and he fell still, captivated by the moon. 

He hung there in mid air before gently being set on his feet. Bare toes touched the scorched earth sending  little tendrils of flame across the floor and he paused. Black wavy locks fluttered in a soft breeze as the boy surveyed his surroundings. The remains of a house encaged him. The upper stories had been burnt down leaving only a few walls standing.  Black marks covered anything left behind by the flames rendering it useless.

The clothes that the boy wore must have once been white but now they hung in burnt tatters, stiff and itchy. In the corner, under the shadow of The destroyed stairs, was a door. It was mostly unharmed as there were only a few black marks across the frame. With timid steps, like a baby learning to walk, the boy crossed the room.

The door fell open under his touch revealing a closet full of smoke smelling clothes. Reaching in the boy pulled out a set of purple fabric before dropping them with a yell. They had caught fire in his hands, yet as soon as he had let go of them the flames had gone out. Nervously, the boy prodded then with his toe before gathering them up again. Once again, they caught fire in his hands but the flames did not hurt.

Laughing with delight, the boy took a piece of fabric in each hand and running around the room. The flames did not burn anything but emitted a warm reassuring glow. It was more light than flame.

Suddenly the boy was lifted up into the air by a gust of wind. He flailed for a moment before being blown high into the sky. Red dust and green grass covered the surrounding land. Hills rose up out of the dark shadowing the earth. In the distance lights gleamed in a small village.

With some difficulty, the boy used the wind to blow him in the direction of the village. He landed in the middle of a celebration. People were dancing around the village centre in colourful costumes and makeup. Turning to a young woman the boy coughed.

"Excuse me miss, where am I?"

The woman did not give any response that she had heard him. "Miss," the boy began again but gasped in shock as the woman walked right through him. It was a hallow feeling that made him shudder. Pain lanced through his chest as he realised that they could not see him or hear him. With a heavy heart, he walked out of the village.