by Jack Cameron
I remember the fire like it was last weekend. We were only kids back then. I was over at Billy’s apartment because his place had a television and Transformers was on after school.
To tell you the truth, I didn’t really like Billy. Don’t ask me why. If I think about it, he was a lot like me. Though I’d never do what he did. I put up with Billy so I could watch cartoons.
I don’t know where he got the matches. I was busy watching television. But I heard the strike of the match and it turned my head. The first one didn’t light. He tried another one. It didn’t light. A third. A fourth. I went back to watching the Autobots fight the Decepticons.
Just as Transformers was ending and G.I. Joe was starting I heard the match ignite. I turned my head and saw the flash of the flame in Billy’s eyes. Billy was literally playing with fire. Then the match went out.
I had an idea. So I got up and ran down the hall to my place where there was no television. I found what I was looking for. I opened the spigot on top of the small yellow bottle. As I walked down the hall, I started spraying the liquid from the bottle onto the floor creating a trail from my apartment to Billy’s.
When I got back, Billy had a match lit. He used it to light another match. I sprayed some more of the liquid onto Billy’s floor.
“Drop the matches, Billy. They’re dangerous.” I said.
Billy dropped them without putting them out. So dangerous.
They flames hit the lighter fluid and ignited the trail.
“Oh shit, Billy!” I said, “You started a fire!”
As the fire reached the hall, I started pounding on doors, “BILLY STARTED A FIRE! BILLY STARTED A FIRE!”
Luckily I was able to let people know the dangerous thing Billy did. I was a hero.