Fire Flower

   Her first burn happened on summers break while swimming with her older sisters at Hogs Lake from morning till dusk. The blazes of the sun had made her shoulders blister and the skin on her nose peel off in one piece. Her second burn came from the stove that caught her ribbon on her dress that quickly licked her elbow and left a triangle shaped scar. Her third burn was on her hands. As she saw the curtains on fire and Sticky, her 2 week old kitten, crouched below. She now didn't have finger prints on two of her fingers. She stood shoeless clutching Sticky, watching the orange flower engulf her home while her sisters cried. She was both fearful and mesmerized by its beauty. Years later she felt ashamed when she thought of the fire as beautiful. It was even more years afterward that she decided to harness that beauty and respect that fear. Now fire was her bread, butter, life, and soul. She could coax it to be small or large, delicate or fierce. However, she believed she would be consumed by it one day. She knew the same flame that had chased her in her childhood would come to collect her either in life or death. But until then, she would continue to mesmerize others with her fire flower.