My face is frozen with speckled snow, while the smoke drifts into my lungs and the popping of the fire is deafening in the silence of loneliness. The doubts in my head grow louder, and my ears start to play a barely audible screech. The cold breeze drifts up my spine, bringing along the chills of winter. I finally did it. I ran. I ran away from that place. Saying they were there to help me and care for me. Even saying they cared for me. They needed to learn how to lie better. It was all lies. yes.I take more news paper and sticks and place it on the small fire, the life that roars calmly. I brought it to life, but i want it to thrive. To most people, the woods of night are terrifying. Good thing my fear died long ago. My mind screams I should go back to that buildings loving arms, but I know that love is a lie. Always pretending to care, after all the abuse, I can't believe I am the only one smart enough to leave. Nothing I did there mattered to anybody, and leaving will not matter to them either. I see the fire devour my offerings of wood and paper, only to grow a beautiful face of its own. The tips of the flame morphed into hair, while the edged bent into smooth curves and the ash formed the outline of a mouth, teeth, nose and eyes in one swirl of the fires tongues. My eyes were having a hard time dealing with this fact that the face was the one i once called my mother.
“Hello Neil. You should be back in the safety of your home, not in the dark of the wilderness. After all honey, it is past your bedtime.” The flames spoke . The eyes made out of ash, heat and flame gave me a warming smile, not physical warmth, but the warmth of a mother who cares for you enough to hug you and protect you from the monster in the house.
“I’m moving on my own. I can never find a true home in a place where you never visit. I can't remember when we last sat down and talked, a home without you is no home for me mom.” I replied. I acknowledged the fire as my mom,  hopefully it will go somewhere. I can’t comprehend why my mind is screaming at me. It keeps shouting at me, and is very impatient. Unfortunately, my mom is more important, and I needed her.
“Darling,” my mother spoke. “This whole situation is wrong. Your dad will be tearing his hair out if he finds out you’re missing. Sweetie, there is more to life than your mom.” My mom wanted me to back to that hell hole. No way, I will be free and make myself a new home, where I can live without the horrors of the homes I have had. I just wish I could take my mother with me. She had emerald green eyes, beautiful flowing hair on her head was stunning in every way you can imagine. She had the voice that soothed lions and skin too delicate for any needle to deserve to touch. She would hold me in her arms for hours on end if the monsters roars were too loud for my to sleep. As much as I loved her though, she could not interfere with my life. 
“Mom. you can’t control me. I have my own life to live. I can’t have you controlling my thoughts anymore. I need you out of my head. I need to let you go.” Tears rolled down my face. “ Just because you are my mom doesn’t grant you access to my life. You are never here for me. I need to leave you in my past.” She was angry. The tongues of the flame turned from orange to a blood red, crows started their tuneless songs and flew around the trees. My mothers features in the flames twisted and distorted into the face of terror, her hair morphed into 3 horns, her soft eyes split until five giant balls of ash stared into my soul. Her nose bent and twisted until only slits on her face was the only remnants, her lips sang the harmony of children being beaten with empty bottles and her teeth displayed the faces of the same child on every tooth. The fire went from being a calm embrace to being the door to death. The trees dark twisted branches were no match for clutches of a demon, and as the fire grew so did she. I felt my eyes widen, and heart pumping fear through my veins. Her screams only grew louder, she had no solid body, but her arms grew from one to hundreds reaching for my soul. They spread from tree to tree, multiplying, getting closer as I stood as a statue. As the her fingers began to claim the hairs on my neck, the fear broke me. My legs pushed of the scorching ground  as I ran away from the mother I rejected. The scars on my body ached with the sudden exertion, willing to tear themselves if I did not stop. That was an option I could not choose, while I was out of reach now, her hands would grab me soon if I even thought about stopping. The dark trees and bushes seemed to be helping her, as their limbs stretched out in my path, tearing my flesh from my skin, soon to be eaten by the monster coming for me. The blood oozed down my legs and spread itself across my skin. Its warmth kissed my skin, leaving behind a trail of the passage. My sneakers pumped against the ground, I saw an old small warehouse up ahead.I was built with wood, but the rot and moss seemed to be taking over. Much as a cancer spreads, the mold would be this constructs downfall. I quickly kicked the door open, the rot made this an easy task. I looked for anything that could help me get away from the monster chasing me. I saw some containers of bright red, filled with water. The rest of the tiny room was only filled with rusty nails and other assorted tools. I grabbed the water containers, went outside and poore them around the warehouse, which had a strong smell afterwards. I took One more gallon, and waited as I waited to face my demon. Her arms reached slowly towards me, leaving no mercy on her journey towards my position. I bent my knees, ready to fun with the water container in my hands. I charged as fast as i could in the middle of the inferno, locking eyes with the monster. Her eyes were as bright at the sun, piercing my own heart. I stopped feet away from threw the liquid straight at her, then I heard the loudest noise I my life.
The journalist hated sad stories, but it was his job to cover them. The public never cared about politics or the good works of people, they just wanted to know who got shot and where. Especially in this story, A kid named Neil Patrick escaped from a mental hospital, and was lost in the forest in days before starting a forest fire and being burned alive by the very gasoline he was using. Even sadder was the reason he was even in that mental hospital in the first place! His mother, Diana Patrick,  died at the hands of his father, Scott Patrick. He had been a severe alcoholic and had been beating Neil, who was six at the time, with his empty beer bottles. His mother come in and took the beating for him until finally one of the neighbors called the police. Diana could not sustain her injuries, and died in Niels arms, soaked with her blood. Scott was on death row, and was put on the chair years ago. 10 years after his mothers death, Neil was still wounded and lost. Probably never even saw the outside world and understood it, wounds too deep to heal. The journalist felt bad, but brushed off the feeling like he dirt from his hands. He felt a buzz in his pocket, soon he was on his phone, messaging friends about  dinner plans. He put his head down and began to contemplate what he would get at the restaurant all his friends recommended to him.
“Paul! Focus on the writing before crying over a sob story! You don’t get paid to put tears on your desk, but stories on the paper!” His boss shouted.
“Uh yes sir! Sorry sir!” He looked and gave his boss an acknowledging nod before using his blue sleeve to dry his imaginary tears. It was better to be known as a wimp than a slacker. Wimps did not get fired, slackers did. He painstakingly finished the keystrokes, he pressed enter and sent it to the editor. He stood and and left his cubicle. A story like that would be lucky on page 3, since no gang violence was involved. Not even any money was stolen. He shrugged, “Can't sell news to people who don't want hear it i guess.” He grabbed his jacket of the rack, and decided to go out and be early for those dinner plans.
Out in the crowds of cold shoulders and apathetic chatter, as the sun beat down and the time continued to erode them all.