Ian showed me to my room. It was tucked in at the end of the hallway on the left side. It was pretty spacious. The bed had a nightstand next to it, fresh blankets and pillows were on top of it. A closet and desk was placed on the other side of the wall. The closet door was slightly open, from the crack it looked like new clothes.

It was clean, new, untouched. And soon to be burnt with me in it. If it can last the night.

"So this is your room." Ian smiled. "You can make it into whatever you like. The closet has a bunch of clothes and sizes so if some don't fit, go ahead and tell us. We can take it and-"

"Can I be alone for a while?" I mumbled, staring at the light brown carpet. "I'm really tired and I just wanna sleep."

Silence. Hanging the air, probably tearing off the smile of Ian's face. The quicker the better. Too bad it only lasted for a second. Swept away from him letting out a cough.

"Yeah sure," Ian said. "It's been a long day, so I can imagine. We can bring up your food up later-"

"I'm good. I just want to sleep."

It didn't sound like his smile was murdered. It still sounds like there was hope buzzing around him. I kept my eyes to the ground, focusing on the fabric. Hope is cruel. From him or anyone. It means you can still live. And it makes it easier to break off and die.

"Of course," he replied. "You get a good sleep and we'll get started with training tomorrow. If you need anything, you can knock on any of the doors and we can talk."

I half hearted mumbled something I think it was supposed to be "thanks" but I didn't care. I heard Ian shuffling himself out and closing the door. And the silence came back, flooding the space with its thick invisible liquid.

I was alone in my new room. Fresh clothes waiting to be tried on. A bed ready to slept on. Blankets to wrap myself in so I can be warm.

All waiting to be burned by me. Added to the pile of ash and soot that caked my skin. To choke out my lungs. It'll take years but I'm sure that's how I'm gonna die.

I just sat on the carpet and laid down there. My back tensed as it found the familiar hard surface. The sore muscles around my spine groaned once they made contact. It's not comfortable but it's where I belong. Minimize the possible damage I could do when I'm asleep. Give someone a chance to snuff out any stray flames that decide to slip out of my hands when I'm out.

If that happens, they might just kick me out. Saves them the trouble of getting used to me and my shit. Saves anyone from getting third-degree burns or scars. Or having their house burn in the middle of the night cause I had a nightmare. Or their tray randomly setting afire after they bullied me.

How am I still alive? Why do I even let anyone put up with me? It's not like I've done any good so far in my life. I'm seventeen, homeless, got arrested for letting my fire commit arson, and found out I'm a freaking witch.

As if finding that out puts everything in perspective. Words can't change what I am. I'm still a freak. An uncontrollable monster. Giving it a different name isn't gonna make it better.

A knock silenced the thoughts. Draining the silence out of the room as the pressure slid off my chest. My eyes focused back on the ceiling, where a blanket of darkness covered it. All the sunlight that poked out from the window was gone. It's night already?

I slowly got up, straining out knots that got tied up from laying on the ground. You think I get used to it by now. I fumbled around, reaching for the doorknob as my eyes adjusted to the dark. Opening up there was a dull light that covered the hallway, hums from downstairs could be heard if you strained your ears hard enough.

On the other side of the door was the strawberry blonde-haired girl at the card table and Blane. She had on what looked to be some pretty heavy clothing. Washed-out jeans that seemed to be too baggy and a hoodie vest that wrapped around her. A bracelet made out of polished metal rocks dangled around her right wrist. Her face was small and ovalish. Freckles were peppered around her face covering what looked like tiny scars around her cheeks. Her green eyes scattered around me before making eye contact. Her smile looked real but frazzled.

"Hi." She said in a half rush.

"Hey." I yawned, glancing over at Blane. "You doing better from the door launching you?"

Blane shrugged, thumbing over at the library doors. "I can breathe through one lung so far, so I guess."

"So...what's up?"

The girl looked at me and raised the plate of food. The smell woke up my stomach, banging it empty corpse against my belly.

"We got some dinner saved for you." She said, "Thought you'd be hungry so-"

I pushed the plate down, choking down the saliva that was building in the back of my mouth. "No thanks. I'm not really that hungry."

The girl's eyes closed for a second, flinching as if she got hurt. Blane looked over at her and gently patted her shoulder.

Please don't turn me into a frog or something.

"It's okay." Blane consoled.

The girl took in a deep breath before opening her eyes again. The dark green eyes seemed to brighten as they looked at me. Oh crap, I screwed up.

"No you're hungry," she said, her voice steady as the words flooded out. "You haven't eaten anything since the stale doughnuts that were thrown out of the AA meeting about three days ago. You don't want to eat anything here cause you think you're gonna ruin this for yourself and burn this whole place to the ground. Not to mention you've been pretty hard on yourself with setting the rec center afire. But no one got hurt so you need to stop saying people got hurt from that."

My jaw hung a little open, watching her spill this out while Blane shrugged as it went on. Did Ian and Andy tell them all that?

"Also you shouldn't worry about accidentally setting this place on fire cause Ian's got a bunch of charms armed in case an accident like that happens. It happens more than you think and it's pretty easy to fix stuff around here. And I can't turn you into a frog. I'm not good at transfiguration and not really interested in it. My natural magic lies in mentalism and I'm learning how to control it so everything is really loud. But I'm not reading your private thoughts or memories! Only surface thoughts that's running through your head and it's pretty loud. So please get some sleep so your mind can get some rest. It helps. Okay?"

"Um....yeah," I said slowly, processing what just happened. Everything just came out like a mile at a minute.

The girl nodded sighing. "Alright cool. Well, I'm gonna go to bed now. Night."

She handed over the plate of food in my hands and turned around to the other end of the hallway. I thought I saw a smile from around her lips before she turned around. Her hands scrambled into her pockets, pulling out headphones and jamming them into her ears. The tension that was forming around her shoulder looked like it dropped several inches. She had her head down to the ground and went into a rush walk.

She seemed better. I think? I was still trying to understand what the hell just happened.

Blane waved at her unaffected at the scene. "Night, Mary-Beth."

The girl gave a thumbs up and turned into one of the doors on the left side and disappeared.

I glanced back at Blane. "Can she really read minds?"

"Yeah." Blane nodded, looking back at me. "Along with other stuff."

"I didn't piss her off or anything, did I?"

"Nah, she gets really overwhelmed with social interactions. She's on the spectrum so if you want more info on that she can talk to you about better than I can. If wanna talk to her, start by talking about trading cards. She loves them. It'll help her out not get overwhelmed. But she's really cool. It was a rough day for her."

"Oh...okay."

There was an awkward pause hanging in the air. It wasn't the silence I was comfortable with. My eyes were staring at the plate of home-cooked food. Cooked chicken and a couple of sliced potatoes. Whiffs of herbs and butter settled in my nose, warming the inside of my chest and my stomach. The amount of drool forming inside my mouth was going to drown my throat.

"The potatoes are really good," Blane said. "They came from Andy's garden so they're pretty fresh."

I just nodded. The warmth coming from the plate was different compared to what my skin made. I didn't like it.

"So, see ya tomorrow." Blane coughed, taking a step out to the hallway.

"What are you in for?" I asked.

Crap, I just made it sound like we're in prison. The words just spilled out. Way to go. First day in a new place and you're already making an ass of yourself.

Blane looked back at me. The small smile on his face was gone. The shadows from the night made his eyes look more sunken and hollow. The skin that hung around his face looked as if it cool peel off to show off the skull underneath it.

"I'll tell ya later when you get to know everyone better." he waved, turning his head away from me. "Night."

I waved back gently as I shut my door. My eyes focusing on the steam rising from the plate of food. My stomach was rebelling against the orders coming from my brain. It wanted something warm inside it for once. The stale and dirty food that coated its walls had made it shrivel and shudder.

Just eat it. You need it. You need a good meal. Any second now you're gonna collapse from hunger and you're gonna be dead. Do you wanna die?

Do I? Kinda figure that's kinda the goal here. See how long I can last until my body finally collapses in on itself. Or when my flames finally decide they're bored with torturing me and just burn me to ash. A shitty way to go, but it's fitting for someone like me.

But I guess having one good meal for the road would help ease into it.

I grabbed the fork that was nestled in between the chicken and clump of potatoes and scooped up some. My hand was starting to tremble as I slid it into my mouth. The texture was soft and juicy, nothing was dry. A hint of garlic hit the back of my throat as I started to chew slowly.

Feeling all the texture on my teeth and tongue. Letting it settle a while before swallowing it.

When was the last time I had a home-cooked meal? I think I had one. I know I've had one. The fire hasn't eaten that memory yet. I know how it feels. How it tastes. So why can't I remember one?

It's just a simple memory. Just do it. Do it. Do it goddamnit!

Tears started to well in my eyes as I continued to slowly eat the food. Letting them fall off my cheeks and onto the plate. Getting soaked up in the potatoes. It's pretty good. Would be a lot better without the tears. But it's good to have something else warm in me that doesn't hurt.