Fire

You were someone who had no "addictions" except for cigarettes, hell, for you cigarettes were magic, they "took away" stress, anxiety, unnecessary hunger and besides that, you felt good.
That night, as you walked, you put a cigarette between your lips. You needed a distraction; your day had been a complete disaster. Your boss was an idiot, and at university, your classmates seemed so slow you couldn't stand them anymore. You took out your lighter... and, to your damned misfortune, it wouldn't light. You rolled your eyes in frustration and kicked a trash can. The trash fell, and with it, something that had caught your eye: a lighter. It was win or lose, and honestly, you weren't in any hurry to get home. You bent down to pick it up, and when you lit it, a gigantic flame shot out, engulfing you for a few seconds. You became a silhouette that quickly tried to hide. The rain hurt.