A flame flickered unevenly above Kevin’s thumb. He snapped his fingers and the flame went out, plunging his attic room into darkness. Amused, he snapped his fingers again and brought the flames back, the light dancing in shadows against the walls. He felt the warmth of the flame upon his thumb and forefinger, the heat singing him now and again, but the flame waved weakly, bringing him a calmness he hadn’t felt in years. It was almost as though the flame itself was calming him. Or perhaps the knowledge that he could create something like this calmed him. It was of his doing, he was pretty sure.

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it even now. There hadn’t been anything in the local library about this--nor would there be, Kevin was sure. It was magic. Like in the books where a wizard used magic to fell a dragon. Fiction. But now, with a flame upon his fingers that couldn’t burn him, he knew the truth.

Kevin wondered what his sister, Hannah, might think if she knew of his ability to conjure flame. He wondered at times if she also held this unique ability. She showed no signs, and it would be hard for her to hide it from him if she could. His line of thought would always lead to the darker question: did his father have the ability? He hated that man, and that man hated him. But his father must not have the ability as if he had, Kevin would feel more pain than that of his father’s fists.

Kevin gazed into the flame for some time before he heard rough stomping coming up the narrow stairway to the attic just outside of his door. It was his father. He recognized the sound of those boots. Kevin snapped his fingers and the flame went out. Quickly, Kevin pulled the covers over his body and pretended to sleep, peeking through a space between the hem of his blanket and his pillow.

His door swung open violently, knob slamming into a hole in the wall it had made after several other angry nights. His father looked upon him with a vicious look on his face, the man swaying back and forth in a drunken stupor Kevin knew too well. “Yeah, you better be sleeping you little shit!” His father shouted. Kevin swore he could almost smell the alcohol lingering on his father’s breath, even with his blanket covering his nostrils. The man that was his father snorted and stumbled back through the doorway, slamming the poor thing shut, the room shaking from the force.

Kevin closed his eyes. He hoped and prayed his father would pass out in the armchair in the living room, but he doubted it. He feared the man would turn his anger on Hannah soon. Some nights, he could hear her crying after he visited her. She surely could hear him when their father came for him. They remained apart in the house for the most part. If their father hit one of them, as long as they were apart, he would never come for the other in the same night. At least that was the hope.

At some point, as Kevin laid in his bed with his blanket covering his head, his eyes closed, sleep claimed him. Dreams didn’t come at first, but soon the images of the happy times of the past floated through his mind. He dreamt of a day he and his mother were at a playground with his sister. His mother had pushed the both of them on a swing. His father was there too, standing in front of the set, smiling at his son and daughter. He was a better man back then, but now he was cruel and uncaring.

It was at that point that the dream perverted into a tumultuous nightmare he could not escape. He felt the wrath of his father’s hand as his long-dead mother watched and laughed cruelly. A storm raged outside and broke the windows and the flame that Kevin worked so hard to control betrayed him and burned up all that he found dear. Kevin tossed and turned in his bed muttering and murmuring incoherent things.

“Kevin,” his sister’s voice reached him through his nightmares. “Kevin, wake up.”

He opened his eyes and saw her doe-eyes looking at him, her brown hair falling over her shoulder. “Oh hey--”

“Shh!” She interrupted him, placing a finger on her lips. She nodded toward the door.

Kevin nodded in understanding. Hannah left the room as he dressed, pulling on a pair of ripped jeans and a white t-shirt. He tiptoed carefully down the steep stairs that led to the living room. He winced at every sound the stairs made in protest to his downward climb, threatening to wake the snoring man below. His father always slept on the couch. He hadn’t slept in his marriage bed since the accident. After Kevin’s mother died.

Kevin reached the bottom landing and quickly tiptoed across the room, keeping his eyes on his father who snored on the couch, one hand on his stomach, the other on a beer bottle which dragged against the carpet. Kevin slipped his shoes on at the door and opened it slowly and passed through the doorway. He shut the door very carefully, making sure the lock didn’t click too loud. Once the door was closed, he took a deep breath and turned around.

“Boo!” She whispered.

Kevin jumped in his own skin, his hair standing on ends, chills and goose pimples rippling through his arms and neck. “Jeez, you trying to kill me with that?”

Hannah laughed. “Well of course not. Just trying to keep you on your toes.”

“Uh-huh.” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “So where are we headed off to today?”

“I thought we’d take a hike in the woods. I mean if you’re not scared or anything.”

“Heh. Right.”

One time, Kevin confided in her that he was scared of bears and she’d never stop reminding him since. She had joked that being scared of bears in Alaska is like being afraid of oxygen. Though, he would be the first to note they had never seen a bear their whole life so far.

Hannah led the charge into the woods, making Kevin’s decision for him. She was always the one to take charge. He liked to call his leadership style “leading from behind.” In school, he would often be pulled aside by teachers for letting kids push him around, and he would always give them the same speech. He would rather give people what they want than be a burden or have to make a scene. He couldn’t have been more glad summer had finally come. Though summer here was still a little chilly and a little wet.

The rain of the past few days had given way for their excursion into the woods. The trees were still a little bare--those that weren’t evergreens--and the ground was green and damp from the rain.

“Hey,” he said.

“What’s up?”

“You ever think about, like, magic?”

“Magic,” she laughed, “like wizards and witches? What about it?”

“I don’t know, I was just up in my room thinking about it? How do you think it works?” He lied. He hoped Hannah wouldn’t dig into his question any further. He didn’t like lying to her, nor was he really any good at it.

“Well, I’d never really thought about it.” Hannah stopped in the middle of the forest and turned to him. “I think, you know, if I were a witch,” she started, pacing around the trees in a small circle, tearing a stick from a tree limb here and there and throwing it as she thought, “I think it would be kinda like active dreaming.”

“Active dreaming?”

“Yeah, active dreaming,” she said, “Think about it. How do magicians create something that doesn’t exist? Maybe they just dream it to be?” Hannah closed her eyes and reached out her hand, laying it flat, palm facing the sky. “They think with their mind and soul in the moment that the thing they want to do is happening, and maybe,” she opened her eyes and stared into his, “it just...does.”

“It just...does,” Kevin repeated.

She nodded with a smile. “Let’s keep going a little bit.”

They walked in silence for a little while, but Hannah soon opened up with small talk, telling stories from school or talking about a book she was reading. She was into romantic novels and “rom-coms” as she’d call them. Kevin wasn’t really into anything like that, but it was nice to spend some time with his sister out of the house, away from their father.

He ended up spending most of the day with her messing around in the forest. They stopped next to rivers which trickled slowly, or next to trees which had fallen at an incline, each taking turns to climb them. By the time they returned home, the sun was going down and dark clouds rode the horizon.

***

A violent storm raged outside that night, lightning flashing through the single window in the attic, but Kevin felt content and warm from the flame he had been able to conjure and control. He snapped his fingers, the flame appearing atop his thumb and forefinger. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He thought about his conversation with his sister in the forest. Is it really that easy? He wondered to himself. It was silly, thinking that it would actually work. She was only humoring him after all. But all the same, he tried it. He imagined the flame growing larger; imagined what it might feel like to have a live flame grow on his fingers. He opened his eyes and the flame was larger, flickering haphazardly atop his thumb. Kevin smiled and snapped his fingers again, the flame fading away.

The sound of his door creaking brought his mind to a worried alertness. The door creaked open, the light from the stairwell bleeding into his room. Hannah stood there.

“Hannah?” He said. He was happy to see her for the first few moments. They didn’t see each other too often in the house. That’s when the reason they didn’t meet came back to him. “You can’t be in here...if he comes to hit me, you’ll only be putting yourself in danger.”

Hannah shut the door carefully and sat at the side of his bed. “I’ll only be a second.”

“We can talk tomorrow. There will be plenty of time.”

“I don’t want to talk only during the day. I’m tired of having to hide in my own home.”

“Shh,” he attempted to remind her to keep quiet. If their father heard...

“Hannah?!” Their father’s ferocious voice boomed from below. A flash of lightning lit up the horror on both of their faces by hearing his vile voice.

In the moments that followed, both Kevin and his sister must have had their minds racing through the options of where to hide her. He knew he did. He looked to the window; perhaps they could jump out? No, the fall might break their legs. Perhaps he could hide her under his bed? No, the bed lay flat on the floor without a frame or box spring. There was nowhere to hide her.

He could hear his father’s footsteps now. He looked back to his sister, her eyes wide, her hands shaking. She was scared. Kevin grabbed her hand and held it tight and looked into her eyes.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” he said, scooching to the edge of his bed.

“HANNAH! YOU BETTER NOT BE UP THERE WITH THAT SCUM!” Their father boomed, heading toward the steps to the attic. The storm grew more restless outside, the lightning growing more frequent.

“Promise?” Hannah’s doe eyes gazed into his.

“I promise.”

His door smashed into the wall, deepening the dent. He jumped to his feet, his sister clutching the fabric of his shirt behind him. “You disgust me!” Kevin’s father spat. “Get away from your sister!”

“No,” Kevin stated confidently.

“What did you say to me punk?!” His father took a few steps closer.

“I said no!” Kevin raised his voice, “I will not let you hurt her you filthy, pathetic drunk!”

“You...” Kevin’s father stomped up to him and took him by his collar and threw him to the ground next to the window. “Your mother would be disgusted.” His father continued his approach. “She died because of you. If you didn’t exist, that day she wouldn’t have gotten in that damned car!” He grabbed Kevin by his collar again, this time reeling back, fist clenched.

The familiar thudding sound landed mute in Kevin’s ears, the aching sting sending shockwaves of pain across his body. He brought a hand to his face to massage the hit. His father had turned around. Kevin’s stomach churned. “Get away from her!” He shouted.

“And you!” His father ignored him, coming to the bedside where Hannah sat, helpless. “Why can’t you see what an abomination he is?! Stupid girl!!” He grabbed Hannah by the hair and dragged her toward the door.

“Get off of me!” Hannah flailed her arms and successfully broke free from her father. She ran back to the bedside and stood tall. She shot her index finger at him and pointed fiercely as she spat her words. “Don’t you ever touch me again! I wish you would have died instead of mother!”

Kevin stood from the windowside and observed as his father’s complexion went from sadness to remorse to anger. He could see his father’s arms shaking, and he could see something strange in the glint in his eyes. It was the look of something murderous. The silence in that moment was unbearable.

A flash of lightning filled the quiet space, followed by an angry rumble of thunder.

“You’ll bleed for that comment,” their father said solemnly.

Hannah backed up a few steps, her father beginning to close in on her.

“YOU’LL BLEED!” He shouted, his fist pulling back as he grabbed her with his other hand.

He began to beat her brutally with his fist over and over and over again. There was shouting and laughing and crying. Kevin ran to his father and pushed him, hit him, kicked him—he did anything to get him off of her, but he would not budge. He was only a child, he didn’t have the strength it took to stop his father from wailing on Hannah.

With one last hit that echoed throughout the room, her screaming was silenced. Kevin backed up toward the window and his father stumbled to the doorway. Hannah went nowhere. She laid silently, staring up at the ceiling. Blood soaked Kevin’s sheets and flowed from Hannah’s nose and mouth. Lightning filled the room.

“Hannah…” Kevin said with uncertainty, unable to believe what had happened; his eyes unable to understand what it was seeing. He went to the bed, fell to his knees and pushed her side, trying to wake her. She rocked to the right, then back left, only to return to the same position. “Hannah? Hannah wake up...”

Kevin realized it. She was dead. Breath no longer left her nostrils; her chest no longer rising and falling to the rhythm of her heart. She was still.

His eyes shot up to his father. Rage filled his body and he felt a strange warmth come over his body. “She’s dead,” He said coldly. The thunder gave its low rumble.

“I…” Kevin’s father stuttered.

“She’s dead,” Kevin said louder, lightning lit up the room.

“I didn’t mean to!”

“She’s dead!”

“I’m sorry!”

“SHE’S DEAD!! YOU KILLED HER!”

“I’M SORRY DAMNET!!” His father’s anger returned, the man stepping forward to hit him. His father’s rage erupted, throwing his fist at Kevin. But he caught it. The warmness from deep within grew stronger. His body felt hot, as if he were afflicted with an intense fever, but this heat felt motivating. It only continued to stoke the anger within him. His father creased his brows and backed away from him.

“YOU KILLED HANNAH!!!” He boomed, closing his eyes. He felt himself holding out both hands as he shouted, the sound of thunder booming deafeningly and the sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the room. Then, his father began to scream. He opened his eyes and saw his father engulfed by a raging flame that crept up his feet and spread to his clothes. Soon the flame engulfed his body as if he were doused with gasoline. Not even the rain that soaked the room from the window could douse the flame now.

His father continued to scream as the flames licked at the flesh on his face. The scream was hardly of something human. His father fell to the floor, the flames betraying Kevin now as the floor became ablaze with the wildfire. He attempted to halt his flames, but they wouldn’t obey his command. He couldn’t control it. The blaze continued to spread. Kevin backed up to the window as the flames licked at his bed and threatened to climb the wall. The walls had become part of the inferno quicker than he had ever imagined. It was a powerful flame. A hungry, angry flame. And soon, he saw it licking at his sister.

“H-hannah! No, leave her body alone!” Kevin shouted at his flames. But they paid no mind to him, and continued to burn the bed, the flames growing hungry for flesh again.

Kevin stepped into the flames, making his way to his bed. The flames rushed against his legs and his calves, but he noticed he felt no pain. The flames didn’t burn him, only singing his clothes here and there. He had no time to consider this, however. He rushed to his bedside and planted his knees at its base against the blackened boards beneath him. She was on fire--her hair, her clothes, her skin--burning.

He scooped her burning body into his arms and wailed. His tears evaporated before they could fall from his face. He watched as his sister’s body burned in his arms.

“Hannah,” he cried, “Hannah, I’m so sorry, Hannah.”

The flames grew hotter, he could tell, as her skin began to dry and crack. He could hear the building creaking. The floor beneath him was charred and flakey. He wasn’t sure how much longer it might hold. He held Hannah closer to him. As he pulled her away from his chest, he saw her hands turn into ash and swirl into the air as the fire created an updraft in the room. Her body, piece by piece turned to ash.

“No, no!” He shouted, his sister’s chest falling away into ash in his arms. “Hannah!”

Kevin closed his eyes and screamed. He stood, her ashes floating up with the flames that licked the ceiling. Kevin descended the stairs and walked through the living room which had also become a red-hot blaze. He passed the couch where his father would sleep and came to the blackened front door and pulled it open, the door falling to the ground in pieces as he started across the lawn.

He came to a stop in the middle of the yard and turned around to see his childhood home falling to pieces in the fire which illuminated the night sky. Not even the rain could put out the fire. Something inside Kevin told him nothing could. He heard the horrible creaking just before the building collapsed in on itself

So this is magic, he thought. He felt numb. Despite the warmth of his flames, he only felt numb.

He looked down at his blackened shaky hands, then back up at the broken form of his house, surrounded in soot and ash. What have I done, he thought to himself. I have to get far away from here.

Kevin turned away from the ruins breathing heavy, his chest and lungs hot like the fire. He lifted his head to the sky and let out an anguished scream.