i wrote this story for my creative writing class a lot of people seemed to like it tell me what you think You're on Fire My pants are on fire. No, I’m not a liar. I’m Nate Palm, a firefighter. I did not choose to become a firefighter …fire fighting chose me. Sounds crazy, eh? Perhaps, I should explain. It all started on a cold December afternoon when I was six. My older brother, Jack, and I were making snowmen. We found creating snowmen of our very own to be rather enjoyable. On the heads were top hats and on the bodies were lumps made out of coal. Then the lumps turned red, and my snowman melted. It was like magic…bad magic; I liked that snowman. The following summer came. It was 101 degrees out. We heard delightful music that annoyed my parents. I jumped up from my sticky chair, as I knew the ice cream man was around the corner. I borrowed some quarters from my mom. I pushed my way through the crowd. At least thirty people gathered around the ice cream truck. And my heart broke when he made the announcement that all the ice cream had melted. I was twelve, it was Christmas time. My father and I were shopping for the best tree for Christmas. I love Christmas, I could hardly keep my self still. Then all of a sudden every tree in the lot burst into flames. My father and I quickly ran for lives straight to our car. Alright, then for two years nothing crazy happened. In eighth grade, I joined the basketball team. I was the star player. It was the last game of the season. I had already scored eleven baskets; I was doing pretty well. Someone in the audience then shouted out, “You’re on fire!â€. At first I thought it was a compliment on my great basketball playing, but then I looked down at my hands to notice they were literally on fire. The fire quickly spread to the rest of my body. My coach hurried to pour a giant container of Gatorade on me. A year later, my first girlfriend and I were on our first date. Everything is going great. We were listening to the song “We Didn’t Start the Fireâ€. I was about to kiss her, but then I smelled barbeque. I looked up to see her beautiful blond hair was on fire. How? There weren’t even any candles, matches, or lighters anywhere near us. She survived… luckily, but we never went out again. After all, I’m not really into brunettes. Oh, boy my sweet 16 came. My parents bought me my first car. It was a beautiful silver convertible. I was so exhilarated. I felt like this was the start of something big. I could go anywhere. It was the single greatest moment of my life until… my car exploded. That’s right it exploded. Why did it explode who knows? As usual no one is hurt except…me. I died on the inside. On my High school graduation, everyone in my family is there. Even Jack who was recently hospitalized for severe burns. As I got up there and got my diploma, I was quite satisfied. The smile on my face quickly faded when my diploma burnt to a crisp. Later, we received a new copy in the mail. I got a job as a chef shortly after graduation. I got fired for burning every meal. I would have felt better about being fired if the meals I cooked didn’t burn before I even turned the oven on. After that, I got a job at a fireworks factory. What was I thinking! I was there for only day…one horrific day. So many explosions. Everywhere red, blue, green, yellow, orange, purple, and white nightmarish flames flew all across the room. Sparklers were going off. The room filled with smoke from smoke bombs. This is basically what I pictured what war was like. After, that the random fire and explosions happened more frequently. I thought one unexplained fire every year or two was bad, but now this was happening everyday! As I walked down the street, trees would burst in the flames. Butterflies would disintegrate. Cars would explode. Even my pants caught on fire from time to time. I have a strong belief that I am responsible for global warming. It never snowed again. Instead it would just constantly rain warm water from December through March. Which at least put out the other fires. After my refrigerator burnt to a crisp, I couldn’t take any more of this. I poured gasoline on myself. I sprayed an entire container of hairspray in my hair. I ripped pages out the dictionary and shoved them in my pockets and down my shirt. I took out a lighter. It wouldn’t light. So then I grabbed my matches. I attempted to light at least 5 matches until I threw them as hard as I could against the wall. I ran to the oven, turned it on, and shoved my head in the oven. Nothing happened. “Ha ha ha very funny.†I sarcastically yelled at no one. I was losing my mind. “There’s other ways to commit suicide.â€, I shouted. I then searched my kitchen for a knife. But every knife in my house had already melted. So I ran outside. I ran to the city looking for a bridge or a tall building, anything tall that I could jump off of. But, then I heard a baby screaming. I looked up and saw a burning building. I knew I had to rescue it. Quickly I ran into the building, ignoring the fact I was covered with gasoline. I ran up seven flaming flight of stairs. I could hear the baby’s crying getting louder and louder. I knew I was getting nearer and nearer. Then I saw the baby screaming; it was in a crib. I was going to reach for the baby, but then I looked at myself in a mirror. I was covered in flames. If I picked up the baby I would have harmed it. So I had to carry a crib down seven flights of stairs while I was on fire. After I returned the baby to his parents, someone poured some cold water out of water bottle on me. The doctor examined me. I was not injured at all. How could this be…I was bursting in flames for at least half an hour. I poured gasoline on myself for God’s sake. Then it hit me…I can’t be burned to death. Knowing this I dedicated my life to firefighting. After, I became a firefighter the unexplained fires stopped. No more exploding cars! No more disintegrating butterflies! No more burning pants! Fires were now started by lousy cooks and drunk smokers. I could live again! I believe this is destiny. The fires must’ve been a sign that I needed to be a fire fighter. It makes sense, after all my dad always had the smell of whiskey on his breath even though he never drank, and he got a job at a brewery.
im glad u liked it the fire is just some sort of mysterious pain in the ass that follows him wherever he goes but no he cant make the fire
So basically it jfollows him around? Wow, thats pretty cool I encourage this =D You're very great at details <3
his first girlfriend, his brother, and a lot of butterflies catch on fire but i suppose some random people probably caught on fire
