Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Memories of Frankie washed over me. His viscous words, his hard, calloused hands with dirt caked under the nails, and that sick voice of his caused bile to rise in my throat. I quickly swallowed it back down, refusing to let the memories of that morning haunt me right now. They could come back in my dreams, but right now I had something to do.
I looked around to see that for once, no one was watching. Red must have called them off to give me some privacy. I walked over to the barn, pushing the thoughts that tried to re-surface back. Standing in the entryway, I looked up at the wooden rafters and inadvertently reached down to rub my chaffed wrists that were scabbed over in areas.
I don’t remember walking across the barn to retrieve the gas can on the other side, but now I stand with it in my hand. It’s full and heavy, and with the slightest tilt it spills onto the floor beside me. I walk around the barn, dousing its contents with gasoline. The bags of grass seed, old lawn furniture, boxes filled with contents from the house’s previous owners-nothing is spared. The can is empty when I throw it out the door and I hear it land with a soft thud as it hits the grass. On the shelf beside the back door sits a large box of matches next to several citronella candles. Grabbing the box of matches, I open it slowly, choosing just the right one to burn the memories. I wanted justice-for me, for the family before me, for my parents-I wanted to watch the building burn to the ground, and I wanted to burn the memories with it.
I tore a piece of cardboard from a nearby box, that was not covered in gasoline, and struck the match-setting it on fire. I lay the flaming cardboard on top of a bale of hay and walked out of the barn. I watched as the hay ignited and soon the whole barn was in flames. I welcomed the heat, even the in warm October air. I backed away slowly, enjoying the sight of the dancing orange flames as they licked their way up the walls and to the rafters above. The fire was spreading quickly, and I was happy that there would be no salvaging it.
“Dallas!” I heard Luke yell. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the whole club barreling out of the house and running towards the now fully engulfed barn.
“Dallas!” Luke was in front of me shaking my shoulders, forcing me to look up at him.
“What happened? What did you do? Are you okay?” His face was twisted in confusion and he was breathless.
“Isn’t it pretty?” I asked looking past him at the barn that was starting to crumble.
“Can we go inside? Please?” Luke asked, desperation evident in his voice.
“No, I want to stay.”
Luke grabbed my face gently and lowered his eyes to mine. “Dallas, you need to come inside. We need to talk.”
I didn’t want to talk to him right now. He was a liar. I knew in my heart that he was forgiven, but I just wanted to be mad for a while. Wasn’t that a stage of grief? And a country song? I laughed at the thought of me attempting to sing that to him. I tried to contain it, but soon I was doubling over with laughter. I had no idea what was funny, and the look on Luke’s face proved that he didn’t either. I looked past him and saw everyone staring at me like I was crazy. Hell, maybe I was crazy. My laughter turned to sobs as my knees buckled and I fell to the ground.
Sometimes in life, you just have to shake yourself and say, “wake the fuck up.” Standing in the bathroom, looking at my battered reflection, I mentally shook myself and said the words over and over again in my head. This was not me. I had endured a lot in my life, why was I falling apart now? It seemed that Luke had that effect on me.
No.
I would not blame this on Luke. This was some shit that I needed to deal with. I needed to stop being such a wimp and suck it up and play the hand that life had dealt me. It was kind of shitty, but hey, who was I to complain? God let me survive for a reason and I was about to figure it out.
I stepped in the shower, not bothering to turn on the hot water. If I wanted to wake up, physically, this was a good way to start. I would get answers today and I wanted a clear head when I did. The cold water nearly took my breath as it cascaded down my back leaving small goosebumps in its wake. I quickly washed my hair and body, then turned the water off and stepped out.