'she was immune to the flame but not to the burn. ' 

   FOUR PEOPLE had died. Dozens were injured. And worst of all, it was her fault.

  Faye's hands quivered as she ran them down her black shirt, trying to smooth out the crinkles that existed. There wasn't a crinkle in sight. She was procrastinating; if she kept her mind busy, she wouldn't have to think about the events that transpired just a month ago. 

   The fire department had just said it was an accident. That a careless teenager left a blazing cigarette in a pile of grass. Nobody believed them. How could one small spark start a fire that burned down an entire school? The whole community blamed each other, but not as much as the blonde blamed herself.

    "Faye, Sweetie? It's time." Faye took a last desperate chance to swallow the ever growing guilt in her throat, but it was no use. It was there to stay. 

     After one last deep breath, she leisurely made her way down the carpet stairs. Her mother and father's sympathetic look made her gaze down and grab the sleeve of her shirt. "We don't have to go," her father stated, noticing her discomfort.

     The blonde shook her head. "I should go. I need disclosure." Her parents gave each other a worrying glance, but her mother nodded and opened the front door. Faye's spine immediately straightened as she clenched her fists, her nails scraping against the palm of her hand. The breeze danced against her wispy blonde hair as she pulled herself into the back seat of the car. Her parents entered seconds after.

    Her mother turned her head in the passenger side and took her daughter's hand in her own. "We have some good news for you after the funeral is over," her mother drawled, her thumb brushing over Faye's warm hand.

      Faye snatched her hand back and tucked it under her armpit. "I'm not interested," she replied in a mumble, avoiding her mother's sad eyes. Mrs. Rosenberg opened her mouth to say something back, but received a look from her husband that made her close it.

   The prolonged drive to the funeral house felt longer than it actually was. With Faye's head leaning against the glass window, she could hear the soft pitter patter of rain splashing against the cement. Her dark lashes fluttered against her cheek, and then they closed.

       Familiar screams filled up her head and the heat of the fire coiled around her entire body, like it was cradling her. She didn't struggle. Instead, she opened her eyes and the flames were gone. This had been happening since that day. A disordered feeling grew in her stomach. Her eyes paid attention to the passing scenery, the blur of trees giving her a sense of order.

   Not even five minutes later, the Rosenberg car was pulling up to the funeral home. The parking lot was crammed with cars of different colors and sizes. People of different ages emerged from their cars, two things in common with them all; They were all wearing black, and they all had ice cold looks plastered on their faces. 

    Faye gradually exited the car and all the looks directed to her. Even her imaginary flames couldn't keep her from freezing to death from their glares. A shiver cascaded down her spine as her parents directed her to the back of the funeral house, where the ceremony for everyone that died in the fire was taking place.

    Pictures framed with flowers and teddy bears with bows caught her eye wherever she looked. The blonde's neck slackened and she looked down at her feet, not wanting to catch anymore stares. But just because she couldn't see everyone, she could hear them.

   "She's the one who was outside when the fire started, right?"

   "I bet you it was her cigarette that started the fire."

   "My son is dead because of her!"

     Her head whirled and her body grew weak with distress. Her parents noticed, and quickly urged her to keep pushing past the cluster of people. The blonde's small body met many hard shoulders as she struggled to squeeze through the ocean of people. Mrs. Rosenberg nodded towards three seats at the back, but the sixteen year old shook her head and walked up to the four charcoal caskets.

      She peered at the glossy casket and rested one of her hand on the closest one. Faye clenched her fist, which numbed the pain in her hand and the ever growing pain in her chest.

       The blonde blinked and looked back at her reflection on the casket. A face stared back at her. But it wasn't her own. It was mangled, scars that resembled scratch marks covering every section of pale skin. It's lifeless steel eyes glared into Faye's own. She choked on her own breath as the face changed to a middle aged woman with long brown hair. The woman smirked and proceeded to mouth something to Faye.

       "I'm coming for you."

        The hairs on Faye's arms stood up as she tried to comprehend what was going on. 'This isn't real' she repeated in her head until it became a chant. Faye closed her eyes, her hand shaking as her nails dug further into her skin. When she opened them, the other face was gone. The blonde only saw her own reflection staring back at her. Faye's hand dropped off the casket, an eerie sound being made as her palm slid down the wood.

      Faye glanced one more time at the wooden box, trying to clear her head about what had just happened. Something was going on in her head and she had no control over it. Without looking back, the blonde crossed the grass to reach where her parents sat. She could see everyone staring at her in their peripheral vision. Others would just stare at her and not look away when she looked at them.

    She squeezed herself into the aisle of chairs and then sat herself between her parents, both of them looking at her. Trying to get rid of their unavoidable gaze, she whispered "I'm fine," whilst she locked her eyes on the ground. She could see dew sliding down the strips of grass, coating the piece of grass in water. 

     The blonde registered some mumbling as people went up to the caskets and said their goodbyes. Moments later, family members talked about the ones who were lost. The ones who had full lives to live, yet she had mercilessly killed them. Faye had somehow started the fire that was responsible for taking someone away from their family.

    No one could know the truth about the ash she had found on her hands. No one could know that she started the fire without gasoline. Without matches. Without a cigarette. No one could know that she "magically" made a fire appear and turned the school into a graveyard.

    Faye ducked her head between her hands, trying to coax the dark thoughts to leave her mind. But she couldn't. Those dark thoughts would be her unbecoming.

  Somehow, before she knew it, the guests were clearing out and the caskets were being put underground. She slowly stood up and followed her parents back to their silver suburban. Faye's hand slid across the metal before she got into the car. She surveyed the area one more time before she opened the door and slid into the back seat.

   Both of her parents turned towards her before starting the car. Her mother's blue eyes carried a worrisome glance. Her father's ruffled hair stuck up in different directions, but he never cared to tame the pieces that stuck out, down. Faye could the dark bags under their eyes. Lately, they had been stressed about the whole situation. Mr. Rosenberg lost his job because his boss lost his son in the fire. 

   In the end, their worries and stress, came down to her. Faye blinked and studied her parents. She could tell they were about to talk, so Faye tucked her bangs behind her ear and gave her parents her undivided attention.

   "Remember when I said we had good news?" Mrs. Rosenberg said, grabbing her husband's hand in her own.

"Vaguely," Faye replied, directing her gaze to the outside world.

"Well, we thought it would help if-" Mr. Rosenberg said, but Mrs. Rosenberg finished his sentence.

" -You had a change of scenery."

    "What's that supposed to mean?" Faye accused, her azure eyes glinting dangerously under her brow.

   "It means we're moving," Mr. Rosenberg said, a smile growing on his face. He looked towards his wife and she indicated for him to keep talking. "To a small town in California."

    "It's called Beacon Hills. We've already chosen the perfect house and registered you at Beacon Hills High School."

 "Great. Just Great," huffed Faye looking down at her feet.

"You'll love it sweetie, I promise." Mrs. Rosenberg patted Faye's knee, but Faye shrugged her off.

"And we are leaving in two weeks, so start packing when you get home."

     They both turned back to the front after staring at Faye for a long period of time, hoping she would say something like "That's great mom!" or "Can't wait!". Faye scrunched her nose, refusing to give them the satisfaction.

      Maybe, just maybe, this would be good for her. A new start. No one would know her past and she would never tell anyone. She would keep her head down and stay out of the spotlight.

      It would be the beginning she never had.

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