My mind flashes through every scene about putting out fire with water.  The fire is supposed to die down, not grow! I slowly roll away to the nearest shelter. What could have caused it to grow larger? The only thing I can think of is . . . . . . Oh my god! It WAS NOT water!
   It was oil.
   How could I be so dumb?
I check the containers again. But they say water. How could it have been oil- The murder. She filled it with oil when I was gone. Dang! That girl is smooth! 
   I run to the fire station and  use their emergency hose. I spray the fire with water and it is dead. It smokes revenge.
   Luckily for it, that's exactly what it's going to get.  

   What can I do? I can't flood her house! She'll be expecting me! Whatever I do, Kelly will be effected by it. Maybe I could set her out on a wild goose chase. 
   I don't plan things very often. I just do them. I'm the kinda "I'm gonna wing this test and hopefully get a C!" person. I'll just walk over to her house. Maybe shoot a bow and arrow like Katniss into an apple and watch the house explode.
   I'm going to go back to my "house" (actually, a pile of wreckage) to find some weapons-just in case.  But first, I need to douse the fire in water so I don't get burnt. 
   I walk over to the nearest grocery store which looks almost untouched except for a large hole on the roof. In smells of rotten milk.
   Thankfully, inside there is enough water to fill a pool, so I'm going to take a couple bottles at a time and stash them by the tree. I gently pick up two non-see-through containers and slowly walk over to the tree like there is nothing on my mind. I do this a couple more times resulting in about eight containers of water to douse the large fire. 
   I walk over to the nearest drugstore, and the tree is out of my view. I search the store for any weapons in case I encounter "her". I find a pocket knife with the little scissors and get some rope too. To my surprise I find a gun behind the counter with loaded bullets. I take another bag of bullets- because I'm a bad shooter.
   I walk back to the tree, and there are my containers untouched. I take them all over at once and douse the fire. And suddenly it grew larger and roared.     

   The bright sun gleams and sends burning rays into my eyes. I try to shade myself with a rag I found next to me, but I find it scorching hot as well. I start to cough at the inhaling or smoke. Someone can't be having a barbecue, can they? I get a brief look around my territory, and spot a growing, illuminated orange spot in my area. Before my brain realizes what is happening, my body automatically starts running away. Why am I running away from my home?
"Fierrrr, Fieahhh,fiewr!"
   I scream in terror. My mouth can barely comprehend what's happening. I'm running for my life, once again, in the past twelve hours. 
   As soon as I clear the area, I lose my balance and my legs go numb. I take a great plunge onto the sidewalk, and try to maneuver my way to a tree so I can prop myself up. 
    I stare at my watch. It's  7:34 AM. None of the parts are moving. What a piece of junk. I try to open the back panel and it results in a sticky mess with  a small cut on my thumb. Sure, it hurts, but I try to focus on the sticky mess. Why is there wet glue in the back? I'm not dumb (Well, I actually am, but it feels kind of nice to say that without John correcting me). I think it was intentional. It's not like I go pouring gobs of glue in my watch while I'm sleeping.