Pyro

AshleighParkers

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Hey guys! How's the new year treating you? I hope you're all doing well. I'm Ashleigh aka AshleighParkers on Wattpad and this is my first time participating in the Wattpad Block Party! I want to send a huge thanks to Kelly Ann Blount for giving me the opportunity to be a part of this amazing event. I'm honored to be a part of it!

Like many other first timers of this event, I had no idea what to do for my entry so I started to look over the previous parties as well as my own compilations and I thought about doing a showcase of my graphic creations or touching on a new genre I've been thinking of writing - fantasy. :D

Choices huh? Well, I decided to go with both! Here's a snip-bit of some of the covers I've made in the past:

I love creating covers, so don't hesitate to ask :D I'm just a message away

And now for the awesome story - Pyro.

Prepare yourselves for a spitfire.

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Dakota's POV

I was seeing it again. Feeling it deep within my bones. The burning never stopped. This time I was trapped, the familiar surroundings of my room coming into view as I peered open my eyes. Large figures loomed over me, their gazes harsh and heated. There were too many of them, and for some reason I couldn't move my hands and feet. I was trapped in this fiery furnace. Closer and closer, their angry forms stepped towards me making it impossible for me to breathe. It was only a matter of time before –

"Hey! Will you turn that damn fire alarm off! People are trying to sleep here!"

I shot up out of my sleep to the blaring smoke detector and the bolstering knocking on my apartment door. I cursed and hopped out of bed, almost tripping over my off-white sheets as I ran to the adjoining bathroom to get a hand towel. Racing back to the bedroom, I jumped up and down urgently trying to get the beeping to stop.

"Damn it! Get it to stop!" the loud knocking continued accompanying an angry Mr. Peterson's coarse voice. He was the miserable old man that lives next door who always seemed to have a problem with loud noises - probably it was the word noise overall.

"Go to hell!" I shouted back, my voice scratchy from just waking up. My wrist whipped back and forth with the towel tightly gripped in my hand trying to get it to stop. When it finally did, I let out a sigh of relief and my body sunk to the floor, landing on my knees. I looked down at my hands and saw the red-orange glow that was brightening by the second.

"Shit," I cursed bolting up and dashing through my bedroom door. Hastily, I crossed the living room floor, heading straight to the front door where I grabbed my coat off the hook. My gloves were tucked neatly in my coat pockets so I just grabbed my keys, opened the door and stuffed my hands in my pockets. Mr. Peterson's face was the first thing I saw, but I didn't stick around to hear what he would say.

I was running - I had to. It was the only way I wouldn't burn this building down. Now that I think about it, I might be doing this place a favor. The walls were coated with muck making it impossible for you to know they were once red. The hard metal stairs rocked as I rushed down and when I stopped at the bottom step, I pushed the back door open. The cold night air welcomed me, but the heat that pierced through my body made it bearable. My feet moved faster than my mind could interpret and before I knew it, I was standing in a dark alley. All alone.

It must've been raining earlier, I noted as I heard the patter of sneakers against the wet concrete. I knelt down behind a dumpster, already drowning in the familiar stench that seemed to only get worse with the rain. I tore off my coat and threw it down on the wet, cold floor; I didn't care that it landed in a huge puddle. An earthquake erupted in the center of my body that had me shaking at the excess of power my body had to diffuse. Biting down on my tongue, I managed to stop the scream that threatened to ripple through my lips. The pain became a mask I wore involuntarily and the stench from before became nonexistent.

I moved my burning hands from my side and unclenched my fists. I intertwined them in front of me as I bit down harder on my tongue - so hard that I tasted blood. They were shaking, the fire refusing to be confined. The powers were too much, they were always too much to handle. I could never control it - I was never truly in control.

I took deep, deep breaths, trying to distract my mind from the nightmare I had. I haven't deciphered what it meant yet, but I've been getting them a lot more lately. The same nightmare. Nothing ever changed. Pinching my eyes closed, I clenched my jaw just as tight fighting a never ending battle with the fire within me. The pain to keep the fire inside me was worse than the pain I would've felt if I let it out.

"Come on, Dakota," I mumbled to myself, "you can do this."

Calming thoughts. That's what always seemed to work when this happened. Unicorns and rainbows. Breathe in. Breathe out. Unicorns and damn rainbows, Dakota. Calming thoughts. I ragged breath escaped my lips when I felt my hands stop shaking. My mind generated thoughts that managed to work. Thankfully, I wasn't shaking anymore and my body didn't feel like it was on fire anymore. Peeking my eyes open, I saw the bright red glow disseminate until I was able to see my olive white skin.

I let my knees flop out from underneath me as I shuffled backward so my back was pressed to the dumpster. I pulled my knees up and stuffed my head in between. Maintaining a steady heartbeat was essential right now, just as a precaution to see if the fire was out.

"Well, that was pathetic,"

I gasped, pushing myself further into the dumpster involuntarily. My eyes shot up to another dumpster not far from the one I was pressed against. They landed on a man seated comfortably on his ass, with his right knee raised, acting as an armrest for his right arm. Dressed in all black and a ridiculously long black coat that flowed past his thighs, he wore a mask of complete boredom. In the darkness of the night, I could see the unimpressed look on his face and his full lips were drawn to a thin line.

I'm sure my eyes were wide as they stared at him. I opened my mouth to say something but no words came out. As if expecting this, the man shook his head and climbed down from the dumpster - whose only response was a loud creak, relieved of the pressure. The man's boots stomped to the floor before he dusted off his cloak with one swift motion.

Cautiously, I pushed myself up with my hands, my body rubbing against the rusty dumpster.

I cleared my throat, "Well strange guy, thanks for the input, but I guess I'll be going now," I eyed him curiously before I bent down for my coat, threw it on and turned to walk away.

Weirdos.

Stuffing my hands in my coats, I tried to shrug off the feeling of his eyes on me. Unexpectedly, I felt the air leave my lungs and I was pushed all the way back to where I stood. It was unexpected because there was no one there to push me. Forcefully, I felt myself being pushed again and my back harshly hit the wall. Then, without a minute to spare, the mystery man stood before me with a small smirk on his face. His hand was raised in the air and he was twirling his fingers as if he was playing with something in his hand.

I tried to move, but I couldn't. I was pinned down. Casting my eyes down, I realized I was pinned down with nothing but air. Air. I was blown away at the ridiculous thought before looking back at the man with twirling fingers before me. Then I was angry.

"What the hell is this?"

He cocked his head to the side, staring at me blankly, "What the hell do you think it is?" I glared at him but he didn't budge.

"Who are you?"

He retracted his hand and put it to his side. The moment he did so, I felt my wrist untighten and my body didn't feel like it was being swallowed up by the wall.

"I'm the special someone who's going to be helping you with your particular... problem," he instituted, his voice laced heavily with fake enthusiasm. He glanced down and my hands then met my eyes, his gaze revealing nothing.

I tucked my hands deep in my coat, avoiding his gaze when I said, "I don't have a problem."

He nodded unconvinced while his hand dipped into his pocket for his cellphone, "Denial's always the first stage, firecracker." He punched away on the screen then tucked it back safely in his pocket and pulled on my wrist.

I resisted pulling my arm back with as much force as he was pulling me with, "If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you're crazier than I thought. Goodbye and good riddance,"

"That's your second time walking away from me, woman. There won't be a third."

I could feel the air pulling me back again, and this time it landed me straight in his arms. Opening my mouth to protest, he rolled his eyes and raised his right arm. Soon enough, we were zooming through the night and the horrible district I called my home flash before my eyes.

***

I hope you enjoyed reading! All votes and comments are appreciated, so hit that star and thrown in a comment. Thank you for reading my entry and I hope you enjoy the rest of the party. Be sure to check out my social umbrella:

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