Fireworks

Posted by Katie Lyn Mills Sagers henceforth to be labeled simply as Millie

My eyes feel like they are full of kitty litter, they itch and burn, weighted down by a mountain of indecision. I can hardly keep them open. There is a small part of me that doesn't want to bother, but who would be left to be indecisive for me? I shake my head and keep driving, trying to focus on the dull yellow lines in front of me as they climb up the hill. My mind must have switched into auto pilot, because I don't remember seeing the road until the sudden eruption of color sets the sky on fire. Oh, right, it’s the Fourth of July.

My eyes don’t want to focus on the blur of color in front of me, but at least the constant popping keeps me awake. Gunfire sets my nerves on hyper drive, I’ll never sleep tonight. The crackle of hot pink sparkles lights the way as I pull into my apartment and get out of the car. There are a bunch of people I've never seen before camped out on my lawn, complete with barbecue. Possibly these people are my neighbors. I pick up the huge stack of papers from the drivers side and slam the door, but the noise is inaudible to the celebratory strangers. I go inside and drop the stack of ink and tree fiber that potentially contain a life on the floor.  It is a considerable sized pile, but it doesn't make a noise weighty enough for the words it carries. “Last living relative” hits the ground with nothing but a soft plop, hardly even noticeable in the din of exploding color and drunk possible neighbors.

I mean to go to bed. I kick off my shoes. I start brushing my teeth. I don't’ mean to end up standing at the window, toothbrush hanging uselessly from my mouth staring up at the bright sky watching the colors tumble and dance, fighting to be the brightest or the most impressive. You loved fireworks, for all I know you still do. A bright neon smiley face lights the sky, not having to compete with any other fireworks and suddenly I feel sick. I close the blinds. I brush my teeth. I sign the paper.

What is life without light and color?

I drop the paper back on the floor and go to bed, throwing a blanket over my window I pop in my ear buds and lay down and close my eyes. I’m fairly certain I should be crying, but I’m not. I turn up my classical music, it is not loud enough to drown out the sound of gunfire cheerfully going off outside my window. I decide keeping my eyes closed is a terrible idea. I don’t want to see the images my eyelids play on continual repeat. I don’t want to see the stark white of hospitals. I don’t want to see the shattering of windshields. I don’t want to see the barbie doll face of some chipper news caster saying it was a random shooting or the officers telling me they have no leads. Random. Meaningless.

I kick off the covers and go back to the door snatching up the paper I take it into the office and curl up in the chair. There are no windows in the office. I sit at the deck and let the chair spin slowly in circles for a while listening to my private concert of violins and cellos. Then I flip on the shredder and feed it the paper. Because the darkness is beautiful too, and you are the one who taught me that.

I'm not sure why but I feel the need to add explanation to my story. Probably because it is so short and so sad, two things I typically cannot write. I generally write over the top and add so much description to emotions that I end up smothering anything that feels real. I also usually write happy romantic type crap. So I decided to challenge myself to put emotion in with as little description as i could. And this is the result of said challenge, I have no idea why it turned out so sad, I had a very happy Fourth of July myself. In fact I always enjoy that holiday. Also lest certain sisters of mine question it, it was intentionally ambiguous.