Written In Flame

  "It was a dark and stormy night." No thats just awful, thought Jeremy.

  "Thats probably the most cliche beggining imaginable." He was never going to get this short story done. It was one o'clock in the morning and he sat at his desk, his reading lamp the only light on in the house.

  "If only you were inside my head." He said, looking at the lightbulb.

  "Eight and a half hours, and five hundred words to go, just rubbish." Jeremy sighed, he needed to get this story done. It would be just great if his parents came home from they're weekend vacation to find out he had missed another school assignment.

  "Write about a significant event in your life, that took place outside of your family." Mrs. Carlyle had told his class. She couldn't have picked a worse topic so far as Jeremy was concerned. Normally Jeremy did great at writing short stories, but they were always fantastical adventures, never anything real.

  Your supposed to write about what you know, the trouble was though that nothing ever happened in his life. He was an only child, ever since he was little he couldn't really relate to any of the other kids, and spent most of his time off in his own world. Things didn't really improve as he got older either. All the other kids at school thought he was weird and ignored him. So he ignored them too, and spent all of his with his head in a book. So now he sat alone in his house drawing up blanks as he searched for a defining social moment in his life.

  Jeremy began to wonder what everyone else at school was doing tonight.

  "Probably getting drunk." He thought bitterly. Time dragged on and he began to become more and more frustrated, then angry. Finally he couldnt take it anymore! He had to write a story tonight!

  Jeremy turned out the light and quickly made his way to the garage. He grabbed the spare "emergency" keys to his parents second car but just as he was about to unlock the door a thought struck him.

  "No, this is such a cliche." He said aloud.

  Suddenly Jeremy turned around and grabbed a can of gas off the wall and began to slosh it all over the garage. He opened a droor and pulled out abook of matches, lit one, and tossed it.

  Later Jeremy sat on the swing in his back yard listening to the approaching sirens. The flames of his house were reflected in his eyes and like a Pheonix, he felt reborn. Jeremy laughed suddenly as he realized he had one heck of a story to tell his parents when they got home.