F̸I̸R̸E̸S̸T̸A̸R̸T̸E̸R̸ 1904 Burning.He smirked a twisted smile,etching the enchanting word onto a battered cell wall.Ever since he was a young boy he'd been hooked on fire.So hooked that as he grew older,starting fire was his hobby...His drug...His obsession.Eventually he was caught, but not after causing deaths and many injuries. It was his seventh day in the filthy country jail and today was the day he planned on using his plan...Blade waited till evening, looking out the small cell window whilst leaning back against the old grey walls.When the shrill lights out bell rang he let out a maniac-like laugh.With a swift movement, he took out the hidden matches from his burnt black hair. "Up in flames." He whispered, his eyes shining.That was his motto... He climbed up onto the sharp window ledge then brought his knees to his dark ripped jacket and struck the match.A quiver of adrenaline ran up his arched spine as a sense of excitement raced through him.A bright orange flame came to life and he quickly threw it outside, chuckling as a tree caught fire...Soon spreading to the jail.To him. He slumped back against the wall, closing his bloodshot eyes as the scent of smoke filled his nostrils.He didn't realise the outline of his cell was made of wood...Not till it was too late.He let out a bitter laugh, not knowing it was his last... ---- This isn't the end of the story if anyone got that idea,haha.Its just a view of the past. Any constructive criticism is welcomed.
YupThe rest/ most parts of the story will be nicer though. It won't be a too long story as I'm doing it for an English assessment.
Oh I forgot, this is to make the rest make sense but may be explained in the story. There was a house built on the remains of the burnt jail.