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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #2128561
Thanks for reading... I tried.
I wanted them to burn. Ok... So that sounded bad but you would too. If they did what they did to you, anyway. I couldn't do anything about it though. All I could do was sit there and wish. Wish for it all to end. You see, I'm a monster. Well, that's what the "normal people" think. I wouldn't call them that because of how many of us there are. By "us" I mean Crimsons or Reds or whatever you want to call us. We can wield fire is the thing. And they call us that because(stupid as it sounds) we have red hair. You might think we could just kill all the "normal people" but you always see mages and think nothing of what they might do. Truly, it's just like that. What I really mean to say is that because of my family being Crimsons or whatever, some guys set our house on fire. Ironic. And they died. My mom and my little brother. I wasn't there. It's too late now isn't it?
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2128561