My world was lit on fire. A sort of fire that didn’t burn your skin, rather it sort of felt like a thousand needles stabbing you at once; more as if you had jumped into a freezing lake. It’s funny, fire and water seem to be peer opposites, though oddly enough you seem to feel them at the same time. 

The needles stabbing me did not start out as multiple, rather they were one very sharp needle, piercing me right in the back of my heart; a place where my safety had once lived. That one needle seemed to represent the worst news of my life. News that I was too young to process, too innocent to bear. Soon enough, that one needle split into two. The second one being a change in my home. The two needles then multiplied into four, and so on. Soon enough I had so many needles piercing me, I began to stop feeling them. So many needles piercing me, I felt like I wanted to disappear. 

Then, the needles transformed into something new. As I found ways to ease the pain, the needles began to disintegrate, and disappear into thin air. In time, they all had left my now wounded body. It took time for those wounds to heal. I’m not the same person as I used to be; I still have plenty of scars all over me. 

It seems that as my scars have healed, I’ve felt stronger, as if I’m a better person than I was before everything went ablaze. 

Now, I understand why the match was lit.