Amaira dropped the box into the rubbish bin, she wasn't kidding when she said she was done with everything related to the Stone family. But her curiosity kept bugging her to take a peek inside the box.
She anxiously shook her leg as she stared longing at it. 'Stop looking at it!' she reprimanded herself in her head, but she only ended up looking away for a small fraction of a second.
The curiosity was driving her insane, literally insane. Amaira got up, "There's no other way, I'll just have to get rid of it." She brought the box up to her room and lit a match before dropping it on it.
'I need to stop burning things in my room, such a fire hazard.'
The box burned away slowly to Amaira's dismay, but as a result, she got a peek at what was inside. Her eyes widened when she saw the familiar face of the man she saw yesterday.
It wasn't a picture, but a very well-done drawing of him. She couldn't help but admire it as the box burned away, but then it occurred to her that the drawing would burn away as well.
"Shit shit shit," she cursed as she spun in her room looking for something to put out the fire and that was when she saw her bottle of perfume. "This isn't flammable is it?"
There was no time for her to think, the drawing was starting to burn, and throwing perfume on it only made an already bad situation even worse. "Shit!" she cursed when the fire roared against her.
Amaira rushed down the stairs and anxiously tapped her thigh as she filled a large jug with water by the kitchen sink. She almost spilled the water on Michael when she turned around.
"What are you doing?" he asked her.
"My room is kind of on fire," she responded and was trying to step around him, but he insisted on being in her way.
"Can you move? My parents will be really mad if I burn the house down." She tried stepping around him again, but he stayed in her way looking at her with a creepy smile on his face.
Amaira furrowed her brows, "Are you okay, Michael?"
"I'm still mad at you," she heard his voice come from somewhere else. Her head went in the direction of the passageway where she saw Michael leaning against the wall with only a towel covering his lower half.
Amaira's eyes widened and she looked in front of her, but the Michael she was sure she was talking to just a few seconds ago wasn't in front of her anymore.
'What the hell is going on?' she thought and this time, she actually felt like she was going crazy. "You were just in front of me, I was talking to you."
"No, I was in the bathroom taking a shower." Michael opened the refrigerator and poured himself a glass of orange juice, "Probably another one of your hallucinations because the supernaturals are just always picking on you."
He sniffed the air, "Is something burning?"
Amaira's eyes widened, she completely forgot about the fire in her room! "Oh God," was all she said before dashing up the stairs with Michael in tow.
"I think you'll need more than that jug of water," Michael told her as the both of them stared in shock at the raging fire that fully engulfed her bed.
Michael was quick to call the fire station even though Amaira begged him not to. She didn't want her parents to find out, but he insisted that they'd find out anyway.
Both of them did a good job controlling the fire, keeping it from spreading until the firefighters arrived. But while Michael got praised for acting quickly and keeping the fire under control, Amaira was reprimanded for being too reckless.
Fortunately much wasn't lost in the fire, but her parents might make her go without a bed for a while as punishment.
Amaira looked around at her nosy neighbors, they, of course, were chatting about her. 'Do these people not have anything better to do? It's like they sit around all day waiting for me to do something crazy.'
Her neighbors didn't hold back their voices but why speak in whispers when everyone already knew about the Mr. and Mrs. Hendrix's screw-up daughter and were thinking the same thing?
"Poor Mrs. Hendrix, she must wish no other child came after Jenna," they would say. Mrs. Hendrix was supposed to have only one child, but she found that she was having twins while giving birth.
"Wow Amaira, the things you do for attention," a bratty voice came from behind.
Without turning around, Amaira already knew who it was. It was Jenna's best friend, Natalia who just loves making people feel like shit about themselves. And of course, on each arm, her two favorite wing women, Mikayla and Rose.
Their bullying did much to her self-esteem when she was a small child, but Amaira learned the art of not giving a fuck when her mother made it clear one night that Jenna was her only daughter.
Her mother said she was just upset and didn't mean the harsh words she spouted at her at 14 years old, but Amaira was old enough to know that no one says things they don't mean when they're angry if they weren't already thinking of it in their heart.
Nothing hurt more than that and the pain was too overbearing, so she just stopped caring and it at least made her feel better.
"Hey, I'm talking to you," Natalia yelled upon being ignored.
Amaira chuckled but didn't turn around, "And you say I love attention."
Natalia fumed but kept her cool because she knew she had the upper hand regardless. "I already called your mom, she knows all about the little stunt you pulled today you little pyromaniac."
"What are you five? As if I give a fuck what you tell my mom."
Natalia's words didn't have the impact she wanted them to have, so she taunted her some more; she just wanted a reaction from her and was willing to do anything to get it.