Playing with Fire

It was night. Late at night. Somewhere out in the darkness she could hear the trees rustle. Within these walls she could feel the chilly breeze surrounding her and she smiled. It was pitch black, but her eyes had gotten used to the darkness. The old drapes were swaying from side to side, back and forth. They were dancing, but had no rhythm. She could feel the wind slowly caressing her face. It was cold, but a nice kind of cold. She looked around and carefully examined every corner of this room. It was old and forsaken, everything was gray. She took a look in the big dusty mirror on the wall, which reflected an old broken window and the drapes swaying in the wind. The walls were all pale and on the ceiling you could see an old dusty chandelier. This place was so familiar to her.

She walked slowly towards the window and took a look outside. Here she felt like home. She was alone but she wasn’t lonely. She liked it here. She loved the whispers of the wind and the long, cold and dark nights. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and enjoyed the moment for a while. Sometimes she could hear whispers, sometimes small silent voices, but this time it was different – it was a song. A melancholy, timeless melody was swirling with the wind, which only grew stronger and stronger. She could feel her heart beating faster and the drapes were now throbbing against her face. She opened her eyes. She wanted something new to happen.

She reached inside her pocket and found a packet of matches. She struck one and let the fire burn out slowly. The red hot flame was the only thing that brought colour to this place. The flame died out. She got curious and lit another one. She admired the new flame with her eyes. It was so pretty and warm. Then it was gone - again. She lit another match, but this one she blew out quickly. She wasn’t familiar with all this. The room was pitch-black now. She couldn’t see anything. There was only darkness. She quickly lit another one and relaxed while the fire was swaying with the wind, suddenly flickering and then slowly swaying again. The flame was playfully staring at her. She wanted more. She took another match, looked at the drapes, and slowly moved her hand towards the cold fabric. The fire caught on quickly. The flames escalated from the drapes to the wallpaper and the whole room was now shifting colour from yellow, orange to red. It was all one big, bright, hot fire. She started walking backwards towards the door and slowly turned around. She took a look in the mirror on the wall, and in horror, all she saw were the reflected flames. With tears in her eyes, she ran away. What had she done? It was all gone now.