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The Beach

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On a sunny beach, a young girl named Sugar Plumps was sitting on a beach chair, looking out at the waves.

She had always loved heat, whether it be sunlight or lamplight or, and particularly so for her, fire. Fire felt like her favorite thing in the world. She wasn't quite as in love with fire has he had been before she ended up on the beach, however that was. Maybe it was because the constant sunlight satisfied her desire for heat most of the time. Days seemed to last forever on this beach, but Sugar Plumps didn't mind, as she had never felt the need to sleep since she got here.

The beach was fairly wide and expansive, with all manner of colourful seashells littered about. The wide blue ocean that the beach looked out on was rather peculiar. It was clear enough that one could easily see the ocean floor while standing on the beach. There were only a few fishes that could be seen, ranging from five times Sugar Plumps' size to smaller than her thumb.

Sugar Plumps wasn't usually one for swimming, but she had been on the beach enough that she had gone swimming quite a few times. When she did, she discovered that the water felt like pristine springwater, and that she could breathe underwater for as long as she wanted.

She hadn't remember how she arrived, but she did remember four particular items she arrived with. She was wearing a pair of fashionable pink sunglasses. In her arms was a large, cracked magnet, a jar full of fireflies, and what appeared to be an action figure of an exterminator. She usually kept the sunglasses nearby, while the other three items were placed in various spots around her beach house.

Speaking of, there was also a large colourful beach house nearby, and though she didn't remember purchasing or moving into it, there wasn't anybody nearby to own it, and when she explored it, it almost seemed to be made specifically for her. So, she treated it as if she did own the house, because perhaps she did.

The house was rather nice, and it had everything she ever wanted in it. All the furniture, decorations, rooms, every aspect of the house seemed to be based on something she had always wanted. It truly was a house that was perfect for her.

Sugar Plumps didn't know how long she'd been on this beach, it could be weeks, months, years, or even more. No matter how much time had passed, she didn't seem to age at all, still remaining a wide-eyed little girl.

After she had been on the beach for a while, she noticed that a cute little spider had shown up. It was vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place where exactly she remembered it from. Still, she thought it was the cutest thing ever, giving kisses on its little spider cheek and hugging it.

She recalled that she wasn't always particularly fond of bugs, but they eventually started to grow on her. Like the fireflies, which mostly stayed in her house's basement.

The most notable feature of her basement was the large cracking fireplace in it. She wasn't sure what the fireplace was connected to, since her house didn't have a chimney, but she didn't mind. Every once in a while, when she desired to see something burn, she enjoyed tossing everything she could find into the fireplace. Interestingly, whenever something in the fireplace burned to ash, it could be found good as new in the spot she first took it from, as if it rebuilt itself while she wasn't looking. She liked seeing what would happen when certain things burned. A lot just burned to ash. Others shattered, some melted, and a few blew up. She wasn't yet sure what would happen if she touched the fire yet, but she figured she would find out someday.

There was also an old typewriter in the corner of the basement. She didn't know many people to send letters to, but she liked having the option. When she had first noticed the type writer, she did decide to send a letter to somebody she remembered to be her former neighbor, telling him where she lived now and what she had gotten up to. There was a mail slot on the side of the typewriter, so she put the letter into it, confident that it would reach its destination.

Sometimes, when she would look into her roaring fireplace, an odd feeling would wash over her. Memories of a intense, burning pain, and of blindingly bright glows. The feeling always went away eventually, and she wasn't exactly sure what the memory was of. Whatever it had been, it had her convinced that fire was something special to her.

After all, it had been fire that had sent her to this place, though Sugar Plumps would likely never realize.