BURIED FLAME
ALM No.94, October 2026
SHORT STORIES
Sometimes, Samantha felt like she’d spent her entire life trying to conform to a certain mold: quieter, grateful, normal, less difficult, and less angry. At seventeen, she woke up with a rage that terrified her. The holidays were supposed to be about family, but she’d spent years moving from home to home, carrying a deep sense of emptiness inside her. Her adoptive mother had stopped being a mother long before Samantha stopped hoping she would become one. Perhaps it was because the woman drank too much, and maybe that’s why Samantha stopped questioning if she was loved. Samantha had a secret—a dangerous one. She could make things burn with her hands. She’d discovered this after an argument when her fists grew hot beneath her fingers. Since then, strange things happened when her emotions became overwhelming: lightbulbs would pop, metal would warm up, and once, a trash can caught fire after she punched it. She’d learned to suppress her anger and pretend she was okay. That morning, sitting on her therapist’s couch, she whispered, “I sometimes think I was never meant to be born. Everyone pushes me away the moment I try.”
Her therapist sighed and handed her a prescription. “Focus on being yourself. The right people will come along.” Samantha looked at the paper without taking it. “Thanks, I guess,” she muttered, stuffing it into her pocket before leaving. The winter air bit her cheeks as she walked alone to the bus stop. The group home staff weren’t obligated to pick her up. At seventeen, everyone had decided she was old enough to take care of herself, ride buses, survive, and be forgotten. She sat beneath the shelter, looking at an old photograph on her phone of her biological parents smiling from a time she couldn’t remember. She traced her mother’s face and wondered who she would have been if things had been different. When the bus arrived, Samantha climbed aboard, sitting near the middle and staring out the window to avoid the social media reminders of others’ belonging. The bus jerked to a stop as a man stood at the front, waving a weapon. “Unload your wallets! Give me your cash!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the bus. “What the actual fuck?” she whispered, her voice trembling with fear. “You heard me, bitch!” he yelled, clearly high on something. His heightened awareness of her made her feel vulnerable. People froze in shock, and a woman broke down in tears. As the man moved down the aisle, someone handed over a wallet. Heat spread through her fingertips, a stark contrast to the cold, oppressive atmosphere. She clenched her fists, determined not to succumb to the overwhelming rage. Suddenly, she noticed a little boy trembling beside his mother. Something shifted within her. She realized that her power didn’t have to be anger—it could be hers. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and opened her hands, allowing the heat to dissipate. The man reached her seat and demanded, “Wallet.” “No,” she firmly replied. He laughed. “What did you say?”
“I said no,” she repeated, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her veins.
Samantha’s fear intensified when he grabbed her arm, heating up his weapon. The searing hot knife forced him to drop it with a scream. The bus fell silent as everyone stared at the scene unfolding before them. Samantha’s fingers glowed faintly, a sign of the power she had unleashed. The man stumbled backward, but Samantha stood up and commanded, “Get off the bus.”
He attempted to move toward her, but the warm floor beneath his feet caused him to panic and flee through the doors. For several seconds, there was a tense silence until the boy whispered, “You saved us.” Samantha looked at her hands, a sense of purpose washing over her. She felt a deep sense of belonging, a feeling she had never experienced before. When the flame returned to her fingertips, she let it burn.
Elizabeth “Liz” Lucente is a writer, storyteller, and emerging media professional whose work explores creativity, identity, emotion, and the stories that exist beneath the surface. She is currently studying Media Communications at Full Sail University, where she is developing her skills in storytelling, content creation, and visual media. Her creative work often blends personal perspective with imaginative storytelling, creating characters and worlds that invite readers to look beyond what is at once visible. “Buried Flame” reflects her interest in the hidden emotions, experiences, and inner worlds that shape us. Based in Orlando, Florida, Liz continues to develop her voice across writing, film, digital media, and creative storytelling. She hopes to create work that connects with audiences while giving a voice to stories that might otherwise remain unseen.
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