Amy, Frustrated and tired decided it would be best if she just went to bed. She reached her room and sat, simply sat in the cold dark contempt for a few minutes before thinking of something better to do. Amy grabbed her box of new candles and a few older ones until the sum was eighteen. It was after all her birthday and, being the only person who seemed to care, it was the least she could do for herself.
Amy Sherman was exactly what any set of parents could have dreamed of in a daughter. She was a senior in highschool with everything to look forward to. She dressed well and got good grades. She made sure mom met every boy she so much as considered. It was an absolute wonder that no one ever really noticed. Fly on the wall, ya' know?
Reading calmed Amy, so, shortly after lighting her ceremonial birthday candles she went to retrieve her favorite book: The Oxford World Encyclopedia. She began flipping through, reading tidbits about the great philosophers that influenced her life. She read that not only was Hitler a highly decorated officer but he also committed suicide, though the connection may not have been obvious to the average person, it hit Amy hard. She also skimmed briefly over Edgar Allan Poe's profile, he apparently only lived to age forty, must've been the opium.
Amy fell asleep after about an hour of Mussolini, Dahmer and Beethoven. Basking in the warmth she began to fall into her dreams when she heard a slam and some woman screeching something that almost sounded like Amy’s name.
The girl, eighteen years old, drenched in the warm light of inspiration and flame opened her eyes, looked at her mother, looked at her ignited bed, smiled and fell back to sleep.
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