The salvation is in the burning (335 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 0.75 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Glitch Cow (View user info) at 2004-10-08 18:30:13 EDT
The salvation is in the burning, ironically.
The first time he was saved, he was twelve years old. Twelve was for growing up, twelve was for the candles on the cake - twelve candles. Twelve little fires, contained, beautiful. His father ruffled his hair because now he was old enough to do things on his own, be a tiny man. His mother cried a bit, because she was always so sickeningly, pathetically emotional. They bought him the comic books and video games he asked for, and they made sure everything was perfect. They wanted him to know how much they loved him.
It was the worst fucking birthday ever. He smiled, he laughed and played with his friends and stayed up late at night like he was supposed to, making just enough noise to keep his parents up, to let them know they were doing a good job. After everyone fell asleep, he snuck outside.
He hated it, he could feel it smoldering inside him. He wanted to feel the fucking struggle, that was all he needed. Everyone in his movies, his stories, his video games and his imagination, they all were miserable or angry or at least searching for something, lacking. He wanted that, he wanted to be interesting, and instead all he got was this picturesque family - this perfect, boring life.
He reached his hand deep into his pocket and pulled out the candles he had brought with him. He wanted to release the fires, he wanted to see everything burn and come out of it clean, naked, life streaming out of every pore.
He made a circle in the sandy dirt. It was too small though, there was no way the fire could grow like this. He widened the circle, closing it in around the front porch, making sure it was evenly spaced. This was his prayer to the gods, this was his signal and his ceremony. This was his ritual sacrifice.
When he lit the candles, they flickered out to fast. His frustration burned up inside him just as the candles burned down. He struck the entire book of matches against the gritty surface of the stairs and felt his anger boil back down when he saw the burst of flames. That was the moment of salvation - the instant in which he knew it was all going to burn.
Maybe this wasn't going to be such a bad birthday after all.
His family was fine, his friends were fine, most of the house was fine. It had been a small sacrifice, the porch, but it had been enough for a while.
It wasn't so hard after that. The trick was making it look like an accident. He never understood why they would through these dirty words around, like arson. So he planned more carefully, he made everything seem unpremeditated, everything seem like an act of chance.
He didn't understand the dirty words because there was nothing wrong with what he was doing. It was no different than the priest at his alter, than the old woman kneeling in a temple. This was his shrine - the flames.
He was trying to save them all, or at least himself.
User Reviews
Submitted by whyamihere (user info) at 2004-10-08 22:42:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
boo
Submitted by GlitchCowman (user info) at 2004-10-08 20:59:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I live in Chicago.
Submitted by gain (user info) at 2004-10-08 20:57:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Do you live in Hamilton?
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2004-10-08 20:47:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 For the Sox sweep.
Submitted by GlitchCowman (user info) at 2004-10-08 20:03:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Mmmmm starting over noob rules.
Yeah, I'm gonna repost this shit tomorrow, with the typos corrected. Why oh why can't I catch my own typos.
Submitted by Sekeeth (user info) at 2004-10-08 19:03:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Well wrote. Little on the disturbing side, but good none the less.
"Fire, fire. Arrraaaaahhhhh" -Bevis