Tonight I'll Be Dancing in the Flames

Her fingers clenched the steering wheel. Gripping tighter, Miera turned sharply at the empty stoplight. It was long past midnight, but it didn’t matter. Miera hardly ever slept. Each night her memories and nightmares of her childhood kept her awake and there was nothing she could do to that could extract the pain. Packed inside the trunk of her car were bottles of lighter fluid. In the very pocket of her jacket was a box of matches. Miera never intended for anything to get this far, but it was too late to turn back now, she was already within a few more miles of her parent’s dream house. A house they used to talk about buying, but never had enough to own it. One day, they used to tell Miera, one day this house will be all ours. Miera knew there were consequences to her actions, but this was the only way she could be at peace with herself.

Miera kept her bloodshot eyes on the road ahead, almost there, she noted. By now, her arms were shaking, anxiety seeping into her veins. For a single second she changed her mind and slammed hard on the brakes, but shook her head and remembered how her parents destroyed her childhood and kept driving. Ever since Miera was five, she was terrified to return home from school. Would there be yelling or screaming? Would someone throw something at her? Would there be hitting? Would she be sent to her room without dinner? After all the torment her parents put her through, they had this coming. They robbed her of a happy, loving childhood, so now was Miera’s time to ruin something they’ll never get.

Finally, she was here. Miera stepped out of the car and into the blackness of night. She parked a few blocks away so that she could have a better chance of walking away free and unscathed. It was quite cold for the middle of March and Miera’s thin jacket was no match against the icy breeze. At least I won’t be cold for much longer, she thought. The house was a picture-perfect storybook house. It was white with red shutters, a brown door, and a perfectly shingled roof complete with a single chimney. The front yard was small, but adorned with a few precisely manicured shrubs and the backyard was large enough for children and pets to run freely. Every inch of that house was perfect. However, the house embodied everything Miera never had, so the only way to feel as though she was even with her parents was if she destroyed the one thing they could never get back.

Miera reached into the trunk of her car, pulled out the arsenal of lighter fluid, and walked methodically to the front door of the house. With a quick twist, the first bottle made its debut as a weapon of mass destruction. Miera took a deep breath and poured the entire bottle on the front porch. From then, she took the next few bottles and began emptying their contents around the perimeter of the house near the foundation. It was incredibly silent at this hour of the night. All Miera could hear was the rushing of blood inside every fiber of her body and her pounding heart. With the last bottle, Miera used it to splash it against the sides of the house, aiming to cover its entirety; she wanted it to burn with power. This is for every meal I didn’t get, Miera whispered into the night as she doused the window that led to the family room. She continued around the house. This is for the raggedy, torn clothes you made me wear to school, she gritted through her teeth as she splashed an entire side of what could have been a bedroom. Miera kept on walking, throwing the lighter fluid at the house. This is for every time you hit me. This is for every time you forgot to pick me up from school. This is for every time you drank so you didn’t have to deal with life.

Miera made her way back to the front door where she started and threw the final empty bottle into the pile. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the box of matches, the final ingredient of her plan. This is for all the love you never gave me, she said bitterly as she lit the match and threw it at the house. After a short pause, she lit another match and tossed it around the corner from the first, and lit a few more so the house would catch fire quicker. Within a few minutes, the flames grew and began licking their way up the house, consuming it like a piece of cake. A grin of satisfaction formed on Miera’s face as the flames grew brighter and higher, further swallowing up what once was a beautiful house. Finally, she took something of theirs. Miera stood in the middle of the street for a few more moments admiring her work of art, then as wind blew, the billows of black, opaque smoke towards the next neighborhood over, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and began walking back to her car. The angry and frantic whirring of sirens quickly filled the air. By the time they get here, Miera thought, there won’t be anything worth saving. Sometimes, there isn’t anything worth fighting for.
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