There was fire on me, but it wasn't hot. It was like I was made of fire, too. I didn't know if I should be scared or not. The fire on me felt like it belonged there. It felt like it was supposed to be there, the same way my arms and legs were supposed to be there. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there. I didn't move. I didn't even blink. I was made of fire, and it was burning me.
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