Next, I just moved; my usual binoculars, with which I watched from a distance, had been replaced with a lighter as I acted instead of observing. Going around my locker row, I was behind Dumbass speedily as he sat on a bench with his back to me. Lightening the dry straw on his head, I could already imagine the wonderful scenery of it catching fire.
Going back to my locker, I played with the lighter and turned back to observing, fully aware that today everything would come to an end.
As I watched him burn, scream and cry in agony, I was fascinated. The adrenalin I so desperately wanted to bring me back to life finally set in, and I was pulled back into my body. The distance had been overcome as my detachedness decreased until it finally disappeared.
Finally, my senses sharpened as if the dullness had been a lie, I felt the blood pumping through my body, breathed in the delicious smell in the air, and stood steadily on the ground.
Could I go further? Could I set all of them on fire? Could I burn down this building with everyone in it?
No. But after today, my father would be called, and he would show his true face. Maybe he would try to kill me, and then I could act, send him to my mother instead.
Today, everything was ending. Today was the day he would die. And I felt joy and anticipation in every fiber of my body, the long-lost or never actually existing pleasure embracing me, making me to never part again.
Not even the slight dissatisfaction with the flames being put out by the others could lessen my excitement, as I pictured my father and that house being engulfed in flames.
Only the ghost of a touch brought me back from my imagination, my plans. Looking down at the owner of that hand, reaching for the danger fearlessly.
My body, which had been set ablaze, was doused in blue; her eyes were especially bright at that moment, and her touch being the most vivid contact I had ever experienced. To, again, so willingly pulling me, this time out of the pleasant embrace of destruction, I felt as if she had me stumbled into her own arms. Her hand found her way into my own, in between the armament of excess.
I wanted more, touch more, feel more—the greed for that nearly drowning me as much as her blue eyes did. The moment I would have our fingers interlocked, her hand slipped away from mine, having stolen something explicit and implicating.
When she left my side and I watched her leave, only then did I understand that there were no screams directed at me, no accusation, no terrified eyes that denounced me.
Nobody had even realized that it was me. And she had taken the only proof of my actions.
Ah, I couldn't say that I wasn't a bit disappointed for the final outcome to be delayed again.
But when I looked at my hand that had set the fire, her touch still crystal clear along with the sparks that had erupted with our contact, I felt myself tremble.
Unwilling to put my hand in my pocket, afraid that touching the fabric would destroy the sensation she had left me with, I let it rest beside my body.
Meanwhile, the little crow continued to scatter crumbs of doubts while protecting me. I could see its little eyes as it pecked the students before flying around and diverting their attention. It was, no, she was beautiful. Although, it was a pity for her to see the magnet beads before their time, which resulted in them losing their reason to exist in the first place.
Only when the medics came had I gotten a good look at the heavy burn wounds Bernard had suffered, and I had to suppress a smirk. The flames had him marred fantastically, the straw probably not growing back ever again.
When he was taken away on the stretcher, my eyes followed him, and before I could look back at the little bird, I was met with the gaze of Brunette. She was in the corridor, and apparently, as I watched Lesly, and then turned to the victim; she was the one watching me. I could see a speck of fear in her eyes, but more prominent was the smugness. Did she think she had discovered something and had leverage against me? Averting my eyes in boredom, I focused on my teacher again, as she had taken on the responsibility of interviewing the students.
I waited in the corridor, behind the others, so that we could take the car back home together. Sure that the other students were too bashful to mention the disgusting words on her face, I concentrated on my newly discovered senses, feeling so damn alive.
When it was my turn, I unexpectedly got the crow laying its head in my palm, having apparently picked out something irresistible enough for it to fetch it openly under my view. The exchange of treasures had my heart beating hard, and I was elated yet again. Especially her separating them from each other, her fingertips as soft and light as they came into contact with my palm, I would love to prolong this situation as well.
Her blue, shining eyes, appreciating the in contrast lackluster beads, got my agitation peaked together with the pleasure, nearly sending me trembling again.
All these new sensations I had so strongly fought to feel, and I got them all at once, like a wonderfully wrapped present sent to pull me out of hell.
Her reason of 'no reason' that she gave me in the car did not frustrate me the least, instead making me curious, so damn curious, about what was yet to come.