Prologue

“I don’t remember any of it.” Something claws in the cage inside me. It bites at the bars. Soon I’ll be in a cage to match. It doesn’t matter, but I don’t remember anything. I know I’m guilty. As guilty as they say I am. There’s no point denying it. I had the matches when it all went up in flames. 

“Why don’t you tell me what you do remember?” The clear on the cops face. She’s the one asking me the same questions excepting different answers. It’s pissing me off. The anger simmers inside me. I never let it overflow. Like my parents trained me to be I’m completely reserved, quiet, and giving nothing away. I speak calmly, and confidently. 

“I remember the heat. Seeing my house in flames. I remember the smell of smoke. I could feel the heat on my face. It burned even from the distance. It light up our whole yard. You could see it from streets over. I was panicked, and weirdly calm. I realized I was holding the box of matches. My lighter was in my left pocket. That’s when I heard the sirens. And I was bathed in gold, red, and blue.” What I remember? Fire… Sharp teeth… and claws. Blood under my fingernails.