Bambolina-3

     The bright, orange flame licked the delicate skin of my exposed wrist.  The pain was excruciating, but I wanted every piece of that retched letter destroyed.  It was the same letter I received about a month ago in the mail claiming I was going to be murdered on the 5th of December.  This date in particular is tomorrow.  I shivered at the thought of it.  This had to be a prank of some sort.  I do not think there is a killer out there who would tell their victim they were going to be murdered.      The front door slammed and I jum