The burning fire blazed around me, encasing me in a prison of blinding smoke and glowing embers. No way to escape, a labyrinth with the walls ablaze. The seemingly immortal inferno waiting to take its claim on my mortal being. The asphyxiating smoke creating tears trailing down my face like a diamond scratching a mirror, one already broken. The smoke rose so far up into the unmindful sky it could dye the angelic white of a planes contrails a soulless black. In my hand, a nearly empty container of kerosene, the fatal liquid spilling out fueling the fire around me. A vial of poison I willingly downed. The breaths I was consciously not taking. I put myself on the stake that I burn on, a self-proclaimed witch, dying at the hands of my own flame. They always said I was fated to be my own downfall.