The Boy With The Silver Lighter **ON HIATUS**

**Sequel to 'The Boy With The Red Sunglasses'.** It has been a week since the funeral of Evelyn James, a funeral that shouldn't have happened. Because Evelyn is not dead, although she might as well be. With the order to stay away from her friends, family and the boy she loves, Evelyn has no choice but to go back to the boy who caused her death - the boy with the silver lighter.

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2. The Return

**John’s POV**

 

I sit alone against the tree where we would meet in the park. It has been a week since the funeral, two since her passing.
I never intended to get attached, you know? She was just a curiosity. Something intriguing that weaved its way into my mind. I remember the first time our minds connected, in that crummy club. I feel myself smile fondly at the memory. She had no idea I was in her mind. She hardly ever did. There were so many times I could hear her crazy thoughts, about me, about her boyfriend, about the X-Men; and she didn't know. It was better that way.
Sometimes, it's as if I can still hear her. But obviously I can't. She's gone. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the hard tree trunk, a tear escaping my eye. She's really gone. The girl I loved... Snuffed out. Just like that.
I didn't even get to say goodbye. I had to find out from that annoying, blond, pigeon boy what had happened to the girl I loved! Why didn't she reach out to me telepathically before she made her decision? I'm pyrokinetic too! I could have easily removed some of the flames from the explosion. The explosion from the bomb I set up. I killed her.
I shudder at the thought. No. I roughly push the tears from my cheeks. I'm too strong to cry. Aren't I? Yes. I am. Surely, I can get over this? She was just a girl, right? No... She was more than that. She was my love. I never thought I could say I love you, but she was different. She was made for me. The perfect pyrokinetic.
"John, it's me." Her voice is in my head again. I don't know what kind of sick joke this is, but it's been happening for the last two days. Echoes of her voice, still present in my mind, I assume.
"Go away!" I scream aloud. I must look like I'm losing my mind... Then again, maybe I am?
"John!" The voice calls again.
"No!" I grit my teeth, the mental pain more excruciating than anything I've ever experienced physically.
"I need you!" The voice begs.
"Stop!" I yell. The reflex action of my fingers snapping the lighter is quick and subtle, and instantaneously, I am cocooned in a cell of flames. This, ironically, is the only place I feel safe.
I allow myself to cry now. No one can touch me here. Here, I am alone. I sob hysterically, finally allowing the emotions of the last two weeks to catch up with me.
"John, you have to listen to me!" The voice continues. Why won't it stop?!
"Please!" I beg. "Why are you doing this to me? Just stop."
"It's me, John. I'm alive." The voice taunts me.
"No, you're not." I cry harder, the flames searching higher around me. "You're gone."
"John, where are you?" The voice pushes.
"Stop!" I order. And for a moment, it does. I feel the tension leave my shoulders slightly, and my body begins to relax.
"Please, John, you have to believe me." At the return of the voice, I bring my knees up to my chest and sob sadly against them. Why won't it just go away?
"No..." I say weakly.
"I didn't die. I'm still here!" I let the fire around me grow wilder with my emotions. Who would torture me like this? Maybe it's that telepath from the X-Men, she never liked me. But then not many people did. I'm not really a likable person.
"You can't be here! You're gone." I still can't say the word 'dead' aloud. That would be like accepting what had happened.
"I underestimated my powers. I survived. Why won't you believe me?" The voice begins to become ripe with negative emotion. Hope blooms in my chest at the words. What if she is still alive? What if I haven't lost her forever?  No. Surely, if she had survived, I would've known. She would've gone straight back to the X-Men, and, as usual, I would have to listen to her whiney thoughts about that Cyclops guy. But no. I have felt none of that.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I beg through the tears.
"Just tell me where you are." The voice orders.
"No! Leave me alone!" I just want to grieve in peace. Can't I do that? When you're a mutant, are you just not allowed time with your own emotions? Am I supposed to be strong? Because I'm not. Not now. I'm weak. I'm crying. More and more with every memory of her that passes through my mind. I should be strong. I should hold up my facade, but I can't. I'm too weak to even pretend I'm strong! What's wrong with me? Can't I just get over this? Wipe it clean from my mind? All this pain that won't leave, it's dragging me deeper. I'm afraid I'll never escape this hurt.
"John, you said you loved me? If you do, you'll believe me!" No! This has to stop!
"Get out of my head!" My voice is so loud and emotional, it's almost unrecognizable.~
"Okay." The voice disappears. I raise my head and take a deep breath. That was too easy. What's going on?
Suddenly, the flames in front of me begin to part. You've gotta be kidding me! If this is that goddamn telekinetic chick from the X-Men I'm going to murder someone. I push myself up to stand, before running my hand through my hand and taking a deep breath to suppress the tears. I don't care who this idiot is that thinks they can mess with my fire, but I can't look weak. Not now.
"Get away from me!" I yell, yet my voice wavers. Damn!
"Pyro."
"No, it can't be." I fall back against the tree trunk. This isn't right. The flames peel back and the figure is revealed.
"Miss me?" She asks, a small, familiar smile on her lips.
"Evelyn?"

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