Burning Hope

Chapter 1: The Grand Beginning Of My Adventure

SMACK!

That was what I was woken up to. Not an alarm clock, not the smell of breakfast, just a loud smack right outside my door. Worried, I immediately jumped up and out of my bed to see the framed painting I had done of a dragon hanging crookedly on the wall. I had done it recently, and I was so proud of it. The black head looked at me with pride, his wings spread beautifully to either side. His pose was battle ready and his the flame on the tip of his tail looked like a torch. I readjusted it and saw Tracy lying next to me, cradling her head.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh. You just hurt yourself again."

Tracy looked up at me inquisitively. "What do you mean 'just hurt myself'? I'll have you know that this hurts!"

"This is a daily occurrence, Tracy." I explained, walking out of my room, into the kitchen and grabbing an ice pack out of the freezer. "You always hurt yourself one way or another. I have no idea why I'm even surprised by it anymore." I handed her the ice pack and folded my arms.

Tracy smiled and sat down at the kitchen table, cradling her head like she'd broken her neck or something. "Thank you, Scarlett."

I smirked. "And you thought they didn't offer first aid for homeschoolers."

I guess I had better back up a bit, huh? You can't start listening to a story without knowing who's telling it. My name's Scarlett Kaida—but to anyone else, I call myself Sera Kingston. I'm fifteen years old and I live in New York City with my accident-prone foster mother, Tracy Kingston. It's pretty obvious that we're not related. For one, she's much shorter than I am, and her hair is a whole different sort of unruly. While mine just refused to cooperate, hers was orange and frizzy, so much to the point where she had to keep it up at nearly all times. Not only that, but she's much more of a social butterfly than I am.

I'm homeschooled—because I want to be, not because I'm not accepted anywhere else—and this was just another boring old day in my life. Or at least, I thought it was. What, were you expecting the sob story of little orphan Scarlett? Sorry, I don't roll like that.

"Speaking of school..." Tracy started, looking up at me. "How's it going?"

I shrugged. "Well, you know, I'm at the top of my class and I only need one more credit to graduate so...yeah. I'm doing pretty good."

Tracy smiled. "That's my girl! You make me so proud."

I smiled. "I know."

Tracy put the ice pack down and laid her arms down on the table, and I knew immediately that she was going into full-blown speech mode. I checked around for the nearest exit, racked my brain for the most plausible excuse, but nothing turned up. Nada. Zilch.

"You know there's more to life than just your grades."

And here, we, go.

"You see, it's amazing that you have such good grades, but what about the social aspect?" Tracy probed.

"We've been over this..." I sing-songed.

"Scarlett, kids your age hang out, watch movies and play board games! You know, spend their free time with actual friends!" She continued. "Social skills are very important for jobs, you know. If you can't work with people, there are very few jobs that will accept you. And not even that, but..."

"Tracy, if this is going where I think it's going..." I said with a warning edge to my voice.

"Don't you want a boyfriend?"

I groaned and walked out of the kitchen, into the living room, then collapsed on the couch and screamed into the pillow. I heard the clicking of Tracy's heels behind me and felt her sit next to me. I looked up at her, hoping she wouldn't continue. Of course, I knew she would anyways.