and I left our home land, the land of fire. A beautiful vibrant land, the land was dry, hot, and alive. As much as my people loved and adjusted to the land, it was unpredictable. One day, an active volcano tore through the ground and with it, our family home. It would take years for us to rebuild and regain everything we had lost. My father realized this, and saw the tragedy as an opportunity to begin again. “My children, we can always start again, the important thing is that you are all safe.” I remember him saying. He accepted a well paying job offer, working in the deepest mines of the earth, this meant our whole family had to relocate to a completely different land. The land of earth. A land of opportunity where all types of elemental beings converged…is what I thought. “Why do you look like that?” “I wont catch on fire, will I?” “Chug gasoline, infernos!” “This is not your land, go home.” My mother made it a point to never let us know how much these remarks truly hurt her. “There is no point in giving in to hate, we live here now, and no one can change that. We are good people, we work hard and pay our bills here, never forget that we are good people.” Even as a child I could see the hurt behind her words. And as much as they hated us, I hated them right back. At school, The children played amongst each other, not a single one looked like me. I stayed in the backlines, I already knew the remarks they would say so I decided to keep my distance. Stone child: “I like your Bonik shirt!” Fire kid shocked: “...Thanks” “Yeah, do you play the games? I love how fast he goes! Hes awesome!” Since that day, Brock and I would hang out every day, playing video games, pretending to be our favorite bonik characters, and sometimes even visit each others homes. I ate his food. And he ate mine. I continued in school, my classmates helped me realize the error of my ignorance, and sooner or later, despite all odds, I had my degree and was ready for the work force. “We’re looking for someone more…logistical” “Someone more…marketable” “Someone more…approachable” I was a smart kid, I had graduated at the top of my class, but nobody would give me a chance, thus as a last resort I turned to the same mines my father worked in. There I was surrounded by people who looked like me. Our resistance to fire made this our societal role. I refused to accept this and I told myself I would leave this job as soon as I could. In the mean time I did make some friends. “Dont you see they’re keeping us down young flame? This entire city only views us as their workers, dont you see these lands were made for us?” The more bitter I became, the more these words stuck with me.
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