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Bailey's Story
Topic Started: Aug 1 2014, 06:52 PM (186 Views)
Carrie
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Genius
I'm Bailey, and. I'm sixteen. But that's not where my story starts.
It starts with a little girl, just two who sits outside of what's left of her house. She's in the arms of a firefighter, and is watching the flames with delight.
"What's up with the kid? She's not crying, she's happy. The flames are loud, bright, and hot. She's the first toddler I've seen do this," says a firefighter.
"I don't know. She's a odd one," decides the other.

That's where my pyromania started.
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Carrie
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Genius
The warmth of the flames puts pink in the cheeks of four-year-old Bailey. A sharp tug of the braid that hangs down her back pulls her away.
"You will be burned. Stay away," warns her nanny, Hestia.
"I'm not touching it," snaps Bailey.
"She's a demonio de fuego," calls the housekeeper.
Bailey shakes her head furiously. "I'm not a fire demon!" she roars.
"Senna, stop upsetting the girl," snaps Hestia. Senna frowns and turns back to her work.
"Now come and let me brush your hair," Hestia says dragging Bailey to her bedroom.
Hestia sits her in front of her vanity, undoing the braid and picking up a brush. Bailey reaches out for the bow on the dresser, and Hestia smacks her head with the brush.
"Don't move," Hestia growls, dragging the brush through her hair. Hestia brushes until every knot is out, and then perfectly braids Bailey's hair.
"What are we doing?"
"We're going to see your mother."
Bailey's dressed in a floor length white and pink dress.
Hestia grabs Bailey's hand, taking her to the living room where her mother and father sit.
"Hestia. Bailey," her mother smiles. Bailey wiggles free from Hestia and throws herself at her mother. She plops Bailey on her lap.
"We've missed you, princess," he father smiles.
"Daddy!" Bailey shrieks happily. He laughs.
"Princess, we love you. How about Mother puts you to bed tonight?"
"Please?" she pleads.
"Alright, baby," her mother kisses her forehead. She carries Bailey back to bed, but Bailey has no intention of going to bed. She crawls back out and sits at the hearth, watching the flames.
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Carrie
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Bailey slides down the rail of the spiral staircase, jumping off just before she stops.
"Bailey! You could have hurt yourself!" Her mother's eyes are full of anger and worry.
"But I didn't," points out six year old Bailey.
"I'm done. Don't listen, listen, I don't care!"
Bailey's mother's footsteps are heavy and quick as she walks away. A smirk plays across Bailey's lips as she twirls the end of her long braid in between her fingers.
Contents of the drawers are being spilled as Bailey looks through them until she finds what she's looking for. She sets the object on the bathroom counter she's kneeling on as she undoes the braid, combing through her hair harshly with her fingers. She bunches the thick, heavy hair in the back. Bailey picks up the scissors, cutting her long hair to an inch below her shoulders.
"Bailey!" Hestia shrieks, pulling the girl from the counter with great force. Bailey cries out as a line of crimson appears where the scissors cut her hand. Hestia pulls her up, studying what Bailey did to her hair. She sighs.
"Don't touch me!" Bailey shrieks as Hestia bandages her hand.
"Oh relax, I'm just going to fix your hair." Hestia takes the scissors, quickly evening the haircut. "You're mother will not be happy, but it's even at the least."
"I don't care what she thinks." Acid drips from the sentence.
"Yes you do. You're just being a brat," Hestia lectures. But Bailey meant it, and it cut her mother (who had been listening outside the door) straight to the core.
Edited by Carrie, Aug 3 2014, 01:53 AM.
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Carrie
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The wind howls outside the quiet little study.
"What's wrong with her?" Bailey sits in the corner, drawing. A few strokes of her pencil and she has the flames drawn.
"I don't know, but she's good.."
"What's she drawing?"
"Some sort of fire.. She won't let me see." Bailey's mother crouches in front of her. "Can I see?"
"No," Bailey's voice drips with acid. She wraps her arms around the book, hugging it to her chest.
"You are eight years old. When you're eighteen, you don't have to listen. But I am your mother," she spits back. Flames flick through Bailey's eyes as her mother grabs the notebook.
"I hate you! You're awful!" Bailey shoves her mother backwards, slamming the door of the study as she leaves.
"She's such an angry little girl," Father says.
"Isn't that the truth," Mother sighs.

Two Months Later

Hestia pushes Bailey back into her chair. "Stay. We have to wait for the social worker."
"No! They're dead, I don't have to listen to you!" She shoves Hestia to the ground, grabbing the newspaper from the table and reading the headlines.

HUSBAND AND WIFE FOUND DEAD
Mr. and Mrs. Jenns were found dead early Tuesday morning in their swimming pool. Reporters are questioning this. Suicide, murder, or accident? Police are investigating this further.
Bailey drops the paper, and it lands on the candles on the table. That wouldn't have been a problem if the candles weren't lit. Bailey smirks and knocks the candles onto the floor, sending it to flames. Bailey runs into the kitchen, grabbing a knife. She's getting out, and anyone in her way will be stabbed. Once outside she wipes the blood from her hands. Her first murders.
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This is a fan-made community that is in no way affiliated with Electronic Arts or The Sims Franchise - We're all just crazed fans. This wild and gladly fictional place is home to liars, cheaters, thieves, arsonists, murderers, occultists, vampires, werewolves, hybrids and many many more unpleasant things. No characters harmed in the making, but plenty were afterward.