when i was a kid (even now) i was a total pyromaniac. its not like i was turned on by fire or anything, i just thought it was beautiful to look at. till i was about 13, all i really did way burn pieces of paper in the fireplace, light matches every now and then, and use a can of air freshener and a lighter to make a mini-flamethrower. anyway, when i was 13, i felt unsatisfied with all that i had been doing. i wanted to do a little more. i remembered that there was an old house next door. it wasn't abandoned, but it was owned by some guy who didn't live there. what mattered was it would work for what i was planning.

so one day i broke into the house. i picked the locks, and came into the house. it was a little scary, it being dark and stuff, but i thought that made it cool. so i poured out a can of gas all over it, then lit a match. i made sure i had a clear exit, and when i lit it, i ran out as quick as i could. so when i was back at my house, i looked out the window and say the fire. i thought it was beautiful.

after a while, i called 911 and told them about the fire, for fear that it may reach my house. they came pretty quickly and put out the fire. they thought it was arson, but me having no connection to the owner or the house, i was never a suspect. so, i got away with it. i dont think the guy ever rebuilt it, but someone might have by now. so, that's my story.