Status: Written and editted in one day!
Burn Day
Burn Day
If you’ve ever watched a candle burn, you’ll know how slowly the wax drips, sliding like heavy lava, burning all in it’s path. Because you never know how life begins or ends. You can only guess. You don’t ever think of your best fiend or the love of your life dieing. The wax drips down and burns those you love, and you never say goodbye.
That’s how it happened to me, during the fire. I watched my friends and family burn and when I couldn't stand it any longer, I also burned.
Summer had come quickly in our town. The ice melted off the sidewalks faster than beads of sweat dripped off the working man’s forehead. The whole town was getting ready for Burn Day. After the year 2052, the population went up so much that every year on Burn Day, one family in every town was randomly selected and them and their home was burnt down. It was savage and gruesome, but necessary. Only there was an exception; families with more then five people could choose someone to be saved. Some were relieved when the government decided this, but most were more terrified and disgusted. I never could blame them. It was wrong, having to chose who lives and dies. But it was something.
I grew up with three older brothers, my mom, and my dad. The night before Burn Day, we sat down and ate dinner. I remember it well enough. Our over-sized dining table was of no use; we sat and stood around the counter and ate quietly, too nervous to talk. No one slept that night either.
The next morning was a bright, cloudless day. What an ironic slap in the face to the town getting ready to kill their own people. We walked to the plaza, my long brown hair swept over my face but I made no effort to move it. Everyone was congregated in a throng in the town plaza, young and old, man and woman all tangling together and gazing up at the mayor who, despite him being thirty-one and working his second year as our loyal leader, looked old and worn.
No one ever blamed the mayors. One after another they would come, usually leaving after only a year due to the stress of the one day the whole world dreaded together. But even with all that happened, no one blamed them. They were the messengers. They only told us who was to die, not chose. It was always random.
Much muttering came from the crowd, neighbors gossiping about who might go, loved ones reassuring one another, school boys and girls taunting their sworn enemies. It only took a slight cough from our current mayor, Mayor Carl Oxford, for the town plaza to get quiet.
“Well... erm... I believe we all know how this works? I’ll read the envelope and say who was chosen. The family will go into custody for an hour where they can call upon loved ones to say goodbye and, if the family is large enough, they can choose a survivor.” A man in black with a greying goatee and a sick smile handed Mayor Oxford the envelope. Oxford glanced arond then opened it, scanned the page and finally choked out the names. “Jack and Paula Anthony, and their children Sam, Lawrence, James, and Trisha.” Our names.
The mayor vanished without another word and a few men in olive green military suits escorted us to a car. We were driven out of town to a large building in the country. It was a bizarre sight, the building where we were held. It was a tall skyscraper with plated glass windows standing in the middle of an overgrown pasture. I actually chuckled at the sight of it.
We were shuffled into a room on the very top floor that had walls completely made of glass and bright purple and yellow poofs next too a denim couch. My parents took the couch while my brothers and I chose the poofs. Mine was purple.
“So...” Dad started after watching the men leave. “I guess we have a decision to make.
“How the hell do we decide?!?” shouted Lawrence. “You’re askin’ us who we want to live when the rest of us die! I’m going to point it out right now that we all want to live. I say we all die together. No one is chosen.” Dad shook his head and Mom burried her head in his chest.
“Your Mother and I decided on the way over that one of you four will be the exclusion.”
“No,” whispered James. “You can’t disclude yourselves like that. We all get a chance.”
“We would rather one of you four live than us.”
“I’m out, too, then,” James said.
“Me, too,” added Sam.
“You guys...” Dad started, but closed his mouth a moment, thinking. “Then it’s between Lawrence and Trisha.” I opened my mouth to speak but Lawrence cut me off.
“It’s her, then. That, or we all go. Which I think is only right.”
“Trisha,” said Dad. I started to protest but again I didn’t get the chance. “You’ll stay here until it’s over. Understood?” I nodded. “Good.”
It was a while before the men came back. In the meantime, we chatted about mundane things like the soccer game last night and the high school’s upcoming dance for upperclassmen only. I told them I might go with my friends and Mom smiled, talking for the first time since we arrived to tell me that her friend Amanda made beautiful dresses and proceeded to give me the store number. Then the military men showed up again.
“Bye Mom, Dad,” I whispered, kissing them and giving them a tight hug.
“Take care,” said Dad.
“Be careful,” was all Mom said before they were taken out to the hall and I walked over to Sam.
“Love you.”
“Love you too, Sis.” He smiled, planting a kiss on my cheek before walking out. James was next.
“Don’t grow up too fast,” He said while he hugged me briefly. Only Lawrence and I stood in the room now.
“I could come. Technically, since I’m seventeen, I can make that decision.”
“Can’t vote but not too young to choose to die? No. Don’t come. You’ve got your whole life ahead. You know I only got mad because this whole system is stupid.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have a point.”
“Dont’ come.”
“Fine.” I crossed my arms and stared at the floor.
“Take care, kid.” He kissed the top of my head and then I was alone.
It’s sick to choose someone to live or die, but it’s just fucked up to watch them die after you were chosen to lvie. Still, I felt I owed it to them. I was taken in another government car to my house, even though I had promised Dad I wouldn’t go. I watched from there as my family was marched up the driveway and were intercepted by a doctor who made them breathe some sort of gas before issuing them inside. It was probably a numbing drug of some sort.
By the time they were in the house night had fallen and the same crowd from the town plaza stood at a safe distance on the streets. Once again, the sky laughed at me ironically, this time with a gorgeous full moon and starlit night. A man holding a flaming torch stepped up to our house and set the left side to flames before throwing the firey stick on the roof and walking away from the quickening fire.
Each flame tickled the stars and licked higher and higher to the moon. It could have been almost beautiful but I could hear my mother’s screams even from inside the car. A grim glow was set about the neighborhood and finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I opened the car door and ran to the golden life form claiming my family to make it stronger. Before I got to the porch, I glanced back. Two fire men had started to run after me but the man in black from the town plaza stopped them.
“No, let her go.”
So I did.
I was the candle. As the flames danced around me, sweat dripped off my face and sizzled on my arms. I didn’t cry. I could barely feel it. My family was gone and if so, why else should I live?
The wax drips down and burns those you love, and you never say goodbye. Not really.
That’s how it happened to me, during the fire. I watched my friends and family burn and when I couldn't stand it any longer, I also burned.
Summer had come quickly in our town. The ice melted off the sidewalks faster than beads of sweat dripped off the working man’s forehead. The whole town was getting ready for Burn Day. After the year 2052, the population went up so much that every year on Burn Day, one family in every town was randomly selected and them and their home was burnt down. It was savage and gruesome, but necessary. Only there was an exception; families with more then five people could choose someone to be saved. Some were relieved when the government decided this, but most were more terrified and disgusted. I never could blame them. It was wrong, having to chose who lives and dies. But it was something.
I grew up with three older brothers, my mom, and my dad. The night before Burn Day, we sat down and ate dinner. I remember it well enough. Our over-sized dining table was of no use; we sat and stood around the counter and ate quietly, too nervous to talk. No one slept that night either.
The next morning was a bright, cloudless day. What an ironic slap in the face to the town getting ready to kill their own people. We walked to the plaza, my long brown hair swept over my face but I made no effort to move it. Everyone was congregated in a throng in the town plaza, young and old, man and woman all tangling together and gazing up at the mayor who, despite him being thirty-one and working his second year as our loyal leader, looked old and worn.
No one ever blamed the mayors. One after another they would come, usually leaving after only a year due to the stress of the one day the whole world dreaded together. But even with all that happened, no one blamed them. They were the messengers. They only told us who was to die, not chose. It was always random.
Much muttering came from the crowd, neighbors gossiping about who might go, loved ones reassuring one another, school boys and girls taunting their sworn enemies. It only took a slight cough from our current mayor, Mayor Carl Oxford, for the town plaza to get quiet.
“Well... erm... I believe we all know how this works? I’ll read the envelope and say who was chosen. The family will go into custody for an hour where they can call upon loved ones to say goodbye and, if the family is large enough, they can choose a survivor.” A man in black with a greying goatee and a sick smile handed Mayor Oxford the envelope. Oxford glanced arond then opened it, scanned the page and finally choked out the names. “Jack and Paula Anthony, and their children Sam, Lawrence, James, and Trisha.” Our names.
The mayor vanished without another word and a few men in olive green military suits escorted us to a car. We were driven out of town to a large building in the country. It was a bizarre sight, the building where we were held. It was a tall skyscraper with plated glass windows standing in the middle of an overgrown pasture. I actually chuckled at the sight of it.
We were shuffled into a room on the very top floor that had walls completely made of glass and bright purple and yellow poofs next too a denim couch. My parents took the couch while my brothers and I chose the poofs. Mine was purple.
“So...” Dad started after watching the men leave. “I guess we have a decision to make.
“How the hell do we decide?!?” shouted Lawrence. “You’re askin’ us who we want to live when the rest of us die! I’m going to point it out right now that we all want to live. I say we all die together. No one is chosen.” Dad shook his head and Mom burried her head in his chest.
“Your Mother and I decided on the way over that one of you four will be the exclusion.”
“No,” whispered James. “You can’t disclude yourselves like that. We all get a chance.”
“We would rather one of you four live than us.”
“I’m out, too, then,” James said.
“Me, too,” added Sam.
“You guys...” Dad started, but closed his mouth a moment, thinking. “Then it’s between Lawrence and Trisha.” I opened my mouth to speak but Lawrence cut me off.
“It’s her, then. That, or we all go. Which I think is only right.”
“Trisha,” said Dad. I started to protest but again I didn’t get the chance. “You’ll stay here until it’s over. Understood?” I nodded. “Good.”
It was a while before the men came back. In the meantime, we chatted about mundane things like the soccer game last night and the high school’s upcoming dance for upperclassmen only. I told them I might go with my friends and Mom smiled, talking for the first time since we arrived to tell me that her friend Amanda made beautiful dresses and proceeded to give me the store number. Then the military men showed up again.
“Bye Mom, Dad,” I whispered, kissing them and giving them a tight hug.
“Take care,” said Dad.
“Be careful,” was all Mom said before they were taken out to the hall and I walked over to Sam.
“Love you.”
“Love you too, Sis.” He smiled, planting a kiss on my cheek before walking out. James was next.
“Don’t grow up too fast,” He said while he hugged me briefly. Only Lawrence and I stood in the room now.
“I could come. Technically, since I’m seventeen, I can make that decision.”
“Can’t vote but not too young to choose to die? No. Don’t come. You’ve got your whole life ahead. You know I only got mad because this whole system is stupid.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have a point.”
“Dont’ come.”
“Fine.” I crossed my arms and stared at the floor.
“Take care, kid.” He kissed the top of my head and then I was alone.
It’s sick to choose someone to live or die, but it’s just fucked up to watch them die after you were chosen to lvie. Still, I felt I owed it to them. I was taken in another government car to my house, even though I had promised Dad I wouldn’t go. I watched from there as my family was marched up the driveway and were intercepted by a doctor who made them breathe some sort of gas before issuing them inside. It was probably a numbing drug of some sort.
By the time they were in the house night had fallen and the same crowd from the town plaza stood at a safe distance on the streets. Once again, the sky laughed at me ironically, this time with a gorgeous full moon and starlit night. A man holding a flaming torch stepped up to our house and set the left side to flames before throwing the firey stick on the roof and walking away from the quickening fire.
Each flame tickled the stars and licked higher and higher to the moon. It could have been almost beautiful but I could hear my mother’s screams even from inside the car. A grim glow was set about the neighborhood and finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I opened the car door and ran to the golden life form claiming my family to make it stronger. Before I got to the porch, I glanced back. Two fire men had started to run after me but the man in black from the town plaza stopped them.
“No, let her go.”
So I did.
I was the candle. As the flames danced around me, sweat dripped off my face and sizzled on my arms. I didn’t cry. I could barely feel it. My family was gone and if so, why else should I live?
The wax drips down and burns those you love, and you never say goodbye. Not really.