fire

fire. graceful like a ballerina, almost lifeless in its intent, its ambition. like a great story it burns away everything and anything. all i could do was listen. i dont know if it was through being asleep but it was as if i could hear it growing. i could hear it talking to me. an evil sound, as if the house was getting angry as i awoke. each bit caught fire with regret, the regret of innocent failure. beying to its existence, threatened it seemed to be like a mother protecting her teritory. it was fear that woke me as if i were the only thing that wasnt intended to burn in that house that night. go! run away! the house said as it made its last stand againt the evil within.