Scenerymania entry; burning fire

She looked really pale that night. Her face was white and washed out, but stained by what her tears did to her mascara. "I hate you," she said to me, nearly choking on her tears.
Chloé lay in her bed, crying coughing and convulsing.
"You can't hate me," I reminded her. "I am your sister."
"I don't care!" she sat up sharply. "I told you so many times that I loved him. But it didn't stop you from going ahead and taking him from me."
"Taking?" I shook my head. "You never had him."
I turned around trying to avoid the situation. I felt horrible. Every piece of my insides was feeling sore from all the guilt. But what was I guilty of? Was I guilty that I had deliberately hurt my sister? Or was I guilty because she found out? The latter, I decided.
"I liked him first, Charlotte. And I told you that I did," she sobbed. I couldn't really hear what she was saying.
"Calm down, Chloé!" I ordered. "We're not fifteen anymore."
"A year. A whole year. And I was stupid, denying everything I heard."
Was there reason to apologize? She wouldn't release me from such an uncomfortable conversation. Owning up to my shattering secret was almost as hard as watching someone I love die.
"Just go to sleep," I encouraged her. "Here." I opened the drawer of the table by her bed and used a match to light a candle. It was a pink one, in a glass case, that smelled like wild roses. Chloé would always light it before she slept. I needed silence. I needed the sound of her ugly crying to cease. I just needed the comfort of deadness. The noise was just bruising my feelings even more.
"How can I sleep? Please, explain to me how I should sleep when I feel like a worthless, broken doll," she hissed.
"Just sleep. Just forget about it. The situation is stupid. You're never going to have him," I pierced the words into her brain trying to turn her speechless. She climbed out of bed. She was physically stronger than she was mentally. Her limbs were still working despite her desire to lie in bed and cry all night. She cradled the candle in her hands.
"I hate you, Charlotte," she whispered, her head hanging low, staring at the burning flame. "You
ruined my life."
"Oh, stop. You're overreacting," I scolded her.
"No!" she squeezed her eyes shut and threw the candle on the ground shattering the glass. The flame expanded quickly. It no longer looked like a little orange droplet. Now it was a wave covering the floor, growing in size by the second.
"Chloé!" I screamed. "What the hell?"
"I hate you! I hate you!" she pushed me towards the wall. I lost my balance and let my body hit the surface. Suddenly, I couldn't even see her silhouette anymore beyond the rising
flames. I heard her feet pound on the ground as she left me alone in the fire.
"Chloé! Chloé!" I called. But she didn't answer. I did this to myself. Now it was my turn to deal with the burns.