It was hot. It was hotter than the milk my mommy gave me every evening. My big brother used to play matchstick game, and my mother scolded saying the fire was dangerous, it’ll burn the skin. So, why did this uncle not know it? He poured petrol on me and lighted a match stick. I remembered my father scolding saying it was dangerous. The uncle threw the hot stick on me. The fire started spreading all over my dress. My favourite pink gown was slowly becoming black. I started crying. I wanted to tell the uncle to stop, but I couldn’t speak. He had gagged mouth and tied my hands and legs. I couldn’t move. The fire started running all over me. It touched my skin, and I winced. I looked at the uncle with pleading eyes; he just saw me for a moment and ran away. I closed my eyes as the unbearable pain started building in my body, the girl parts the uncle touched were already in bad pain, but this was too much. My mommy’s beatings were never this painful. I wanted to tell my mommy that I would be a good girl. I wanted my daddy to come take me out from the fire. A foul smell started filling my nose. I couldn’t bear it. I closed my eyes shut.