[ WP ] You are a pyrokinetic who tends to accidentally set things on fire when stressed . And today , you 're having a very bad day .

I heard the beautiful chirping of the birds before my eyelids gracefully slide upwards. The sunlight calmly caressed the room through the window, its rays lying peacefully across my blanket. Bright daylight. 
 
 Like slime, I oozed off my bed as I headed to my cupboard. As I opened it, the sunrays illuminated the interior. Bright daylight. The phrase stuck in my mind as I wandered down the corridor to the washroom. Bright daylight. Bright daylight. Hmm. 
 
 I stared out the window, seeing people going about their day and doing their work. *Work*. *Bright day*. Those words should be connected somehow. 
 
 *Shit*. 
 
 -- - 
 
 My power manifested since birth. It began when I was rocketed out of my mother's womb, propelled by fire. Of course, my parents did n't survive. That's normally what happens when you're extremely close to fire. 
 
 How did I remember all that? My sixth foster family told me. 
 
 Of course, a power is n't much use if you do n't know how to harness it. And it turns out that the way to harness my power is through stress. The more stress I experience, the likelier I'll light something on fire by accident. 
 
 -- - 
 
 I dashed out of my door, my clothes by now burnt to a crisp but worry not - I had another three sets of clothes in my suitcase, along with a portable fire extinguisher. As my fifth foster mother always told me, and me specifically for some reason, `` Always bring a fire extinguisher.'' Well, I did. 
 
 I grab the charred remains of my car door handle and rip the door open, forcing myself inside and slamming the door shut, while my leg scrambles for the accelerator. My insides lurch as they try to hold my leg back, begging for it to stop but my leg charges forward, forcing down the accelerator as what remains of the steering wheel starts to glow from the heat from my palms. 
 
 -- - 
 
 Red light. My leg taps uncontrollably against the accelerator, tempted to push down and fulfil my destiny of not being late. I feel myself sinking into my seat as the leather starts to char, the pungent smell wafting into my nostrils. My nostrils started to flare — literally. Catching myself, I take a deep breath and a calming cool falls over me. Okay, I'll just wait *patiently* for the light. Meanwhile I could get my change of clothes so I could get changed. 
 
 I look around in my car for my suitcase. I look around in my car for my suitcase. I can not find my suitcase. I look more frantically around for my suitcase. I still can not find my suitcase. I did not bring my suitcase. 
 
 *Shit*.
