#tt 1.0

This wasn’t supposed to be how prom ended.

No, it was supposed to end in romance and fireworks. Flora Bee had counted on it, selecting a strapless dress and a loose and curly half bun. Her date, Jon, had been appropriately wowed by her sartorial choices, and she had been certain her reservation for a post-prom room at the Windfall Inn would pay off.

But that was before the ballroom blitz. Instead, her dress had been reduced to scraps and ashes, and her painfully curled hair had been scorched off. She had escaped the gym narrowly, leaving Jon cowering inside. He was unharmed, she was sure. Because as always, the focus of the night--and the violence--was her twin sister. Her supernaturally gifted, incredibly powered witch of a sister.

Flora gagged, but managed to swallow it back. Clearing her throat, she made her way to the terminal. As she entered the building, she came to the end of her plan. She didn’t know what awaited her outside the airport. So she settled into a bench in the airport lobby. It had been a long night. She would find her way after a nap. 

Eight hours later, Flora Trémaux arrived in Hidden Springs. She was the sole passenger of a Cessna 172, piloted by a man tasked with bringing supplies to the village’s small military base. It had been a bumpy flight, and she didn’t get to choose the destination, but it only cost her 200 simoleons. She made sure to take it out of Fauna’s half.

A howl pierced through the roar of the flames, followed by a shriek. A creak emanated from the roof of Nature and Nurture Learning Academy, no doubt a sign the beams were beginning to buckle. Flora sighed as she pulled herself up from the ground. By morning, the front half of the school would be nothing more than ash. She would be gone by then.

This is it, Flora thought. It hardly felt different from her native Aurora Skies--perhaps a bit warmer, a bit brighter. She knew she would be far enough south she wouldn’t be able to see auroras anymore. The smell of pine was a little overpowering, too. But at least here, she would have an ocean between her and her family. She breathed in a deep breath. My future is in front of me. Then she exhaled. My past behind me. She inhaled again. 

And then felt sick rise into her mouth.

“You’re right,” Fauna said through a quivering lip, “I ruined your night. And I hurt you. I’m sorry.” “It doesn’t matter if you’re sorry or not,” Flora replied, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “I deserve better than immolation. Goodbye, Fauna. And good luck. You’ll need it.” 

Her hair, on the other hand--a glance in the mirror proved how bad it truly was. Flora grimaced at her reflection. Her once mid-back length hair was barely past her ears, and significantly thinner. She pinched at the ends and sighed. she thought.

Her home was only a block away, but it felt like miles. Every movement of her blistered and cracked limbs was agony. Somehow, she made it down the street and up the stairs into her home. 

Despite the pain, most of the burns seemed to be superficial. Once settled into a cold bath, Flora breathed a sigh of relief. The soot washed off, revealing mostly untouched skin. It hadn’t been as bad as she thought, at least in terms of scarring or maiming.