Writer in Motion- Editor Draft
I didn’t mean to start the fire. It’s not my fault. Nobody told me I could shoot sparks from my hands. It was supposed to be an easy sixth-grade science fair project. Instead, I couldn’t light the stupid hand sanitizer on fire and the judges were staring at me and, well, I got a bit frustrated. Then sparks shot from my hands and they caught on fire. I screamed and waved them around trying to put the fire out, but when I did, the flames started flying everywhere and soon enough, poor Lisa’s Climate Change poster board was up in flames. Ironic, I know. The whole auditorium erupted in panic and a teacher grabbed the fire extinguisher and sprayed foam on everything. And now here I am, sitting in the office, covered in foam, for starting a fire and destroying the science fair. I stare at my hands. No burns. No scars. Just some sticky hand sanitizer. “Violet Evans. The principal will see you now,” the grouchy receptionist calls with her scratchy voice. She pushes up her ex
