I remember that I once loved to play with fire. I would look at it, feel it, and sometimes test it out on some things that did not belong to me. Those things included my sister's dolls. Other times I used fire to "accidentally" burn my brother's belongings. Other times I just lit a small "controlled" fire and stared at it for long periods of time. I was what you would call "obsessed" with fire and the destruction/ pain it could cause. Other times I experimented with hairspray and the fireball it made when put under a flame. I could not explain my obsession to anyone at that time. I couldn't explain it very well.

Ok, my mom used to buy lots of candles. I used to be her candle lighter. Once, all of our candles were used up but some wax was left over from t

I advise everyone, young and old, that playing with fire is not a very safe thing to do; you can get badly injured or killed. It would be better to stay away from it now than feel sorry later after being badly burned.

hem. I decided to make my own small candle out of the small amounts of wax left. I put all the wax together, hoping that all the different waxes with different smells would make such a nice smell that my mom would be proud of. Ok, so I mixed all the wax and put it in a small plastic container. In the center of the wax, I made a hole. In that hole, I slipped some paper and cloth soaked in rubbing alcohol. I lit the candle and it looked like there would be a nice healthy flame burning off all the wax making a nice aroma. I placed that candle in the bathroom, left it there for a while. A

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, wax left,
Approximate Word count = 551
Approximate Pages = 2 (250 words per page double spaced)