“Mom, when are they going to start?”
“Jimmy, I have told you already. stop asking me!”

My mom mumbled this as she lay on her blanket, arm over me. I guess she was pretty tuckered out too.

I looked at all of our family on the surrounding blankets. Some ate their potato salad and hot dogs, others played card games. The younger kids ran around their parents as they talked to each other. my dad stood over by the Coleman stove cooking our chicken. I debated about removing my mom’s arm and grabbing another soda out of the cooler, but she began to snore. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I lay still on my blanket and waited for the night to finally fall.

I must have fallen asleep, the loud bang of the fireworks startled me awake. I finally was getting my fireworks show and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. Next fourth of July I was going to have to try harder to not fall asleep and miss out on all the fireworks.

Ash covered my face, my arms, my legs. It mixed with blood to cake me with macabre mud.

Stumbling down the street, I passed bodies. Looters broke windows, sending shrill alarms into the already deafening sky as they forced their way past displays. The bloodied orange sky cast a sickly hue over the entire scene.

I looked away from those sitting in the street, between cars, crying.

I saw a crib as I staggered over a pile of rubble. A darkened doll. A charred picture in a broken frame.

Bending down, I pulled the smiling images out, cutting my fingers on the shards of glass. I turned three circles and fell to my knees. Digging through the chunks of concrete and wood. Dust enveloped me, smothered me.

Gone.

All gone.

My fingers raw and bloody, my heart buried in the rubbish, I collapsed. I wailed.

Arms circled me, dragged me to my feet, and moved me down the street.

Finally, I’m set down. Bodies lie around me in neat rows. Some sit, some move, some don’t.

How did I get to the triage area?

It didn’t matter.

I lay down, without Jonathan, and hoped to die.

“So, Jas,” she said, slipping her hand up my arm.

I almost hurled. Don’t touch me! I wanted to scream. But didn’t. I deserved a medal of some kind.

“Yeah?” I asked, moving her hand, and cringing that I had to touch her more in the process.

“So, I was thinkin’ that maybe we wouldn’t have to stay here anymore. We could like go to my place or something. I’m parked not far from here, and no one would think twice if we left.”

What a brilliant girl. I mean, brains and beauty. “Are you kidding? I’m the MC.
Pretty sure they’d miss me as soon as Don is finished with his gig.”

“Then maybe we can just go under the stage or something?”

I sat up. No amount of money was worth this. “Look. I’m sure you’re nice and all, but I have a job to do, and I have a girl friend.”

She sat up in a huff. “Max is gonna owe me big time. I’m never doing him another favor.”

“Favor? What?” I stammered. “No, I’m doing Max a favor. He told me to keep you company. Pretend I liked you.”

“That jerk-wad! That’s what he told me to do. I would never go out with a Slasher, Goth, or whatever, like you. No offense.”

“And like I’d be seen with a Wrangler wearing, cowboy loving girl like you,” I snarled. “No offense.”