I woke up. They were still there. First off, I should probably tell you who I am. My name is Sarah Jones. I was just your average sixteen year old a few hours ago. I'm not anymore. I remember having the freakiest dream, only to wake up with something warm on my back. Actually, pause right there. I'm not going to tell you this part until I tell you about yesterday.
I remember waking up, and having my back itch really badly. I hopped out of bed and walked over to my dresser, turned around, and looked over my shoulder to glimpse by back, bare beneath the thin fabric of my tank top. My shoulder blades were really itchy, and very red too. I start thinking that it was some kind of rash, or something. Being really irritated now that I couldn't wear that didn't cover my back.
Because, you see, I like wearing tank tops and shorts to school, because I've got the best legs, all smooth, sleek, long and strong, in the entire school. Plus, I've got a nice rack that every girl anywhere admits. My skin is usually flawless, except for what I thought the redness was, and my long black hair is to die for. So, can you really blame me for wanting to show off my features? Right.
So, well, anyway, I ended up going to school in a t-shirt with the 'rash' thoroughly caked in medicine. I still had my shorts. Nothing was going to make me leave those behind.
School went ahead as it always does. Me, sitting through seven enormously boring classes with a thirty minute lunch break in the middle, and guys left and right drooling over me as their girlfriends steamed. Even my male teachers panted after me. The only difference was that the 'rash' on my back getting itchier and itchier. After school, I went right home, barely saying a word to my boyfriends, Brandon, as I passed him in the hallway.
At home, I first checked the house to see if my parents or older sister were home yet. Good. They weren't. I ran upstairs; for my back was on fire. In my room, I practically ripped my shirt off in my desperation. The 'rash' was still there, but some weird, random black lines were, too. I couldn't make sense of it. At first, I thought somebody at school had stacked a sharpie down my shirt and rubbed the lines on my shoulder blades, but when I tried to rub it off, it wouldn't even smear. I debated whether or not to start rubbing furiously. Eventually, I decided that rubbing that hard would hurt my back even more, for even just barely touching it made it hurt so much that I wanted to scream Fortunately, when I heard the door open, I could concentrate on that instead of the pain. Unfortunately, my shirt was still off and the door was still open in my room, so I had to scramble (rather painfully) to pull my shirt back on.
Mom walked inside my room. She asked me, "Honey, what are you doing home so early?"
I replied, "I didn't feel well, so I hurried back."
She frowned at me and gave me a look that told me she thought I was faking, even though there was no reason for me to faking in the first place. It was true, my back felt terrible, and school was over. That's just my mom. She thinks that all teenagers are evil, nasty liars, and that adults are THE SUPREME FIGURE. Another frown directed at me, and my mom skirted away.
I went to my door and closed it, making sure to click the lock in place. After double checking the door, I walked to my bed and lay down, hoping to have a quick nap before dinner. As I closed my eyes, I imagined when the 'rash' would go away, never imagining the possibility of what was about to happen.
I woke up, the room was pitch black. After glancing at the clock on my nightstand, I groaned. It was 2:00 in the morning. At first, I thought that my stomach had been what woke me up, but after a few seconds, that idea was quickly abolished. There was something else, a low hum emitted with a growl. At least, that's what I could describe it by. There were simply no other words you could use to describe it. Anyway, it was coming from outside. I walked over to my window and looked outside onto my front yard.
There a weird beast was sniffing around. It had the head of a lion, and the body of a porcupine. But instead of fur, it had gray earthy skin, while the lion's mane was a flap of skin suspended by spines. The spines on its body were thick and deadly sharp, and the whole package was wrapped together with the fact that thing was the size of an elephant. It stopped sniffing and looked up at me with a glare in its eyes. I decided to name it Fred after the fact that when I told my ex from two exes ago I was breaking up with him, he gave me the exact same glare.
Anyway, when that looked at me, I snapped. Literally. Until then, I'd been trembling with fear, but when Fred looked at me, the fear went immediately away, to be replaced by rage. HOW DARE. That thing was in my yard. Fred had the nerve to look at me like that. At this point, I had so much rage that I couldn't think anymore. I unlatched my window and crawled outside onto my roof; from there, somehow jumping off the roof and landing on my bare feet on the front lawn. Once landed, I planted my feet and stared down Fred, daring him to attack. He snorted, kicked up dirt, and charged.
At the last second, I jumped away and landed in a roll, neatly coming to my feet. I don't know how I did it. For I didn't think I could do that normally. Then, something strange happened. I started to glow. It was the weirdest thing. Then I started to rise into the air, and felt something. Something similar to how I would feel if I were a cup and hot chocolate was being poured into me. Then some voice coming from deep within my mind whispered words, and I repeated them.
"FIRELIGHT, LIVE!"