The acrid smell of burning hair and flesh filled the air as Mother's hand pressed her down upon the flame. The pops of fire. Her searing cheek. Her hair is melting. She could feel the flame probing, searching like a lover bent on revenge. A hole melted through her cheek, the flame licking at her tongue. She knew better than to scream. For after all, when has that ever saved her? What use have tears and screams ever been? Instead, she mutely withstood the pain and lay limply as her body went into shock and then slumped almost lifelessly to the floor, only the small, involuntary twitches of her eyes betraying the agony she felt. Mother walked away from her to continue her conversation on the phone. "So sorry, darling. You know how I hate to keep you waiting," she drawled into the receiver, s
