All you have to do is shout it out.

Craziness wasn’t her worst agenda though. Her father getting married, again, was. Supposedly the night they had their little run in outside her old school, he popped Fiona the question. Why this was concerning to Roxanne, well, she had to tell Fiona about her secret. And a whole lot of other things too. She was currently sitting in the old penthouse she had spent her teenage years in, staring out the window that overlooked the city. Her dad was speaking to Fiona, in the kitchen. Roxanne hadn’t even said anything about being a pyromaniac, and it was already awkward.

The two strode out, sitting opposite of her. Roxanne met her eyes, blinking slowly. “Fiona, I am about to reveal a very big secret to you. Can you keep it? Because…you might get taken away by doctors in white coats if you spill it.”

“Roxanne, what are you talking about?” she laughed nervously. “What secret is that insane?”

“Trust me,” her father said, patting the older woman’s leg reassuringly. “It’s insane.”

“See, Fiona….I am what people…say…or call a pyrokinetic. I can…control fire.”

Fiona looked at her briefly, a serious expression on her face, before bursting out in laughter. Roxanne looked at her father, an anything but amused expression on her face. Her father’s eyebrows rose high, lips rolling together.

“Fiona…” he said slowly, drawing out her name.

“I can show you.” Roxanne finished.

“You guys are so funny. Everybody knows there’s no such thing as anything like that. It’s all wise tale stories.”

Roxanne closed her eyes to keep from losing her temper naïveté’s wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere. “Hold on,” she said through clenched teeth and held out her hand. It erupted fire swirling, ducking and transforming in the palm of her hand. It was tame yet untamed and wanting to go where it pleased. “This is not a wise tale joke.”

Fiona went very still and pale; eyes transfixed on the fire in her hand. “How are you doing that…?”

“I told you. I am a fire spirit, and….I kind of fight the bad guys for a part time job.”

Out of nowhere, her head erupted in a blazing migraine. One that made her skull feel congested and need a release of pressure. Roxanne cried out, hands clawing at the scalp. It wasn’t from her fire; it never acted up and she had full control over it like any other time. It felt like something was hammering in her head; chipping away.

“Roxanne? Roxanne, baby what is it?” her dad said in a frightened voice as he hovered over her.

“My head! It’s in my head!” she screamed, falling off the lazy boy and onto the carpeted floor. “It’s going to explode.” She cried out, writhing.

“Fiona, call 911. Go!” he barked out, trying to pull her arms from her head; which by now had amounted in a bloody mess.

Roxanne screamed again, balling her hands up and knotting into her hair. Her head felt like it was going to implode now, building and building soon to burst. “Daddy they’re going to kill me. They’re in my head. They’re going to make me crazy.” She was sobbing hysterically, as her father kept trying to still her.

“Roxanne, no one is going to hurt you. I won’t let them.” He held her tightly and close, stopping her spastic movements.

She pulled her face from him to look clearly in his ashen eyes. “They already have.”