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I feel like I'm moving too fast on here. I suppose I should post it though, because if I don't I'll get bored of the plot and delete the file. I'm already thinking up another idea for something.

Chapter 1
Burning

Everything was burning. The house. The garden. Everything. Painfully bright yellow and orange flames clawed out of the windows where the glass had smashed from the intense heat, like furious animals. On the few patches of grass in the front garden that weren't being burned to dust, every single blade had dried up and turned brown as their insides evaporated.
Everything was burning.
Except the girl. In the topmost room of the two storey house, where the fire was hottest, and large chunks of wall had already crumbled away, she lay. The bed she lay on was on fire as much as the rest of the house, but it did not seem to be actually burning, as if the flames were not actually touching it. The girl's eyes were shut, and she lay slumped on the bed with her arms and legs flung out, like a rag doll that had been tossed to the floor. But even more than the burning inferno surrounding her, the girl herself was strange. Though the heat around her had evaporated every source of water in the house, her long black hair was floating up above her head like it would have done if she had been underwater. The girl was struggling to breathe, her breath catching in her throat, and whenever she managed to exhale, a large silvery bubble would bloom out of her mouth. Her skin seemed to be glowing, but as if lit from inside, the brightness rippling across her like the sun reflecting off water on a bright day. Above her, the acrid black smoke was roiling and twirling, completely obscuring the ceiling from view. In the smoke there were faces. A man and a woman screaming in terror. They twisted and changed into four faces, cringing as if in pain. They disappeared too, replaced by other faces. Faces that didn't look quite human.
On the road outside, a car pulled up. It was a Land Rover, its highly polished black paint turned orange and white in the light of the fire. The engine stopped, and a woman stepped out of the driver's side. She was tall, with long skinny limbs as if she had been stretched. Her white-blonde hair was pulled back into a smart ponytail, and her eyes were hidden behind huge black sunglasses. Out of the passenger side appeared another woman, who came to stand next to the first. They were both identical in every way, only the second woman was a head and a half shorter than the other. They watched the raging inferno before them for a moment, as casually as if they were watching ducks on a lake. After a minute or two, the shorter woman spoke.
“She's one of them?” the taller woman nodded.
“She's one of them, and of the two remaining, I know which as well.” the shorter one turned to look at her as several bricks broke free of the front wall and tumbled to the ground.
“You know? How can you tell?” she asked. The taller woman gestured absently at the fire.
“Two reasons. The Siren's domain is not fire. And even if it was, he or she could never destroy anything this easily. No, get our fire crew over here. This is our girl.”

Four days later, the same girl lay, frail and feeble upon a hospital bed. Her small room was silent, except for the high pitched beeps emitted by the various machines surrounding her bedside like an entourage. Her hair was shorter than before, the inky black, shoulder length tendrils spread out across her pillow like an ink splat. Her eyes were still shut, and framed by large, bruise-coloured patches that stood out against the almost paper-white colour of her skin. Apart from the regular, albeit slow beeps that signified her pulse, the girl could have been dead for days, she was so still.
After a while, a short stocky nurse with short hair and a pronounced limp hobbled past the door to her room. After checking her watch, the nurse opened the door and stuck her head round. Sighing wearily, she entered the room fully. Disregarding the heart monitor behind her, the nurse took the girl's wrist and counted her pulse. Yawning, the nurse mouthed something, and was making her way back out of the room again when the beeps changed. One of them was getting faster. After a second or two, another one joined in, the lines on its screen becoming longer and more jagged. The nurse looked panicky for a moment, but pulled out a walkie-talkie from her trouser pocket and spoke into it.
“She's waking up. She'll be conscious in a minute or so.” Pocketing the walkie-talkie again, the nurse hobbled back out, muttering frantically about water and clothing sizes. As the door clicked shut behind her, the girl's fingers twitched. The beeping got gradually faster, and three sets of footsteps echoed down the corridor outside. The girl frowned in her sleep, and a faint moan escaped her lips. The door opened, and the nurse re-entered, followed by two women. Both, though one was a head and a half taller than the other, were identical in black pinstriped suits and black stilettos, their white-blonde hair pulled back into smart ponytails. Both women had hazel green eyes with a cruel, ambitious glint in them. As if hearing the sound of their heels tapping on the floor, the girl's fingers twitched again. Slowly, her thin arms lifted up so that her hands could cover her face. After a moment, the beeping levelled out again in a faster beat.
“Hajimemashite, Hisayuki Ai – san.” (Pleased to meet you, Ai Hisayuki – san). The taller woman looked down at the girl and folded her arms, the Japanese coming out easily enough, but sounding unnatural on her tongue. Muffled by her hands, the girl named Ai answered sluggishly in a quiet, croaky voice.
“Hajimemashite. Onamae wa nan des ka?” (Pleased to meet you. What is your name?)
“Jackson desu.” the taller woman replied in a monotone, “Anata no me o aite imasu. Anata wa eigoga hanashimasu ka?” (I am Jackson. Open your eyes. Do you speak English?) there was a pause, as Ai slid her hands away from her face. Blinking rapidly, she slowly opened her eyes. Her irises were as black as her pupils, and seemed endlessly deep, like looking down into a well. She turned her head a little to look at Jackson, who returned her gaze coldly.
“I speak English fluently. I learnt it at school. Where am I?” Ai answered quietly. Her voice was strongly accented, but she spoke in English as easily as she had in Japanese.
“We are in Okinawa. You have had an accident – I will not trouble you with the details of it, but you have been in a coma for four days. You are making a rapid recovery though, and I want you out of here by tomorrow.” the nurse looked surprised and started to protest, but a venomous glare from Jackson silenced her. Ai simply stared. Though she had no medical training of any kind, she was pretty sure that people coming out of a four-day coma deserved a little more than one day in bed. There was a long pause, broken eventually by Jackson.
“Well, I must be off. There is much to attend to around here. Good day, Hisayuki.” she announced, and before Ai could even formulate another question in her sluggish brain, Jackson turned on her heel and strode back out, the shorter woman falling in line behind her and leaving too. Ai listened absently to their tapping footsteps fading down the corridor.

Thanks for your critique. At school, we don't get much chance to do creative writing, and I don't personally know anyone who knows how to properly structure a story, so I don't get much chance to improve.
There are some parts you've pointed out, like the ink splat thing, that I wasn't too pleased with myself, but I was struggling at the time to think of another way of putting it.
The animal thing I thought of because of what you see on programs about zoos and stuff. Like when a lion gets angry and goes crazy, it starts thrashing its paws about. The flames are kind of doing that in my head.
The grass is brown because, like you suggested, the water inside has evaporated. All of the cells are being baked dry, so if the grass isn't on fire, it's shrivelling up from the heat, like when plant leaves curl up if you don't give them enough water.
I think you're right too, about putting the description of the girl in a separate paragraph. Paragraphs have always been my weak point, and it's only recently that I've started to try and address it. I keep stopping at the end of a sentence and thinking '..Do I need a new paragraph here?' I have to restrain myself from going crazy, or every single sentence would be a new paragraph.
And finally, yes I need to do more research on hospital things. But then, as I will try to make clear in my edited version, it's a kind of secret situation, so I imagine that emergency buttons would alert quite a lot of people.
The ambitious glint ... I don't know. But sometimes when you look at a person's eyes you can see what their emotions are. They are, after all, quite expressive.

No, I don't think you're being pedantic at all. There was stuff in there that needed pointing out, and I only noticed it because you pointed it out. I find it too easy to bias myself when I'm rereading stuff, so I never get anything done.

Yup, thanks 3nodding it's very useful information. I'm gonna get back on it when I've finished a short story I was doing.

Absolutely great. Just a one thing off. What type of character is Ai going to be? Is she 20? When you use the fluently it either means that the person is very knowledgable or trying to make others feel smaller.

Reading through it once.

Well I would to commend on the middle of this piece and the very end. The part where she in the hospital to the point the nurse got her walky talky was well written and the ending was good as well because it left you wondering what is next. I'm going to color some stuff in the story that was confusing though or needed work and write after it in orange what you could do.

Reading it again as I edit.

This story is very good so far. Just the flow is hard to follow. Lots of potential. You just had a hard start and then finished strong. Good job.