Fire.

I really don't feel like talking about myself today, so I'm going to just make something up.  Don't worry.  I have a topic, courtesy of The One Minute Writer.  Let's see if I can stick to the one minute time limit.  I am a pretty fast typist. 

Here we go...

Fire

The smoke began to fill the room as she sat on the couch, mesmerized at what she had done.  She had no idea why she held the lighter to the curtain.  She didn't want to hurt anyone.  She really didn't.  But, when the voices tell you do something, you just do it.  She had learned that lesson the hard way. 
The firefighter grabbed her arm one last time to pull her out, touching that old scar from the last time the voices took over.  As she gazed up at him, she decided it was time to end it.  There would be no more scars.  No more smoke.  No more harm.  She layed herself down on the floor, determined to stay and finish what she had started. 

Okay. 

I feel like that may have been slightly over 1 minute.  I only have my crappy office clock as a guide since The One Minute Writer's handy timer is blocked on my office computer.  Thank you, big brother.