One Of Those Things Your Parents Told You To Never Do

I turned the burner on high, letting the quick stench of gas fill my nose before the flames licked the metal above it.

I waited.

Slowly, I lifted my hand and placed it on the burner, but no heat stung my skin. I pressed harder into the flames, hoping that some agony would break through. Nothing. I watched as the flames charred my skin, turning it black. Nothing. It turned flakey and fragile. I took my good hand and started picking away at the dead skin, peeling and pulling and tearing. Nothing. I reached my bones but I did not stop. I shoved my face into the roaring flames and prayed for anything. Nothing. Madly, I pulled the blackened skin off and peeled away the evidence until I was nothing but a skeleton. I ripped my bones apart and dismantled myself before I put all of my pieces into the fire and finally disappeared.