The Purge

I drove up to Mark’s house, my heart racing but my mind numb. I had come to get this whole ordeal over with. I was doing this as a sign of good faith, that I wasn't going to go to the cops. The threats would finally stop. I would no longer have to worry about what might happen to me. I could make this whole incident disappear. Kate greeted me at the door, the smell of alcohol and drugs weaving through the foyer telling me we were not alone. The same crowd that had gathered the night this heinous act had been performed was all present and accounted for, many already wasted. People were wandering around me, sounds and voices jumbling, flesh and clothing hazy shadows. Kate gave me the VHS and walked away. I was lost in a daze feverishly yanking out the magnetic tape, feeling the reels resist until the cassette shell was just as empty as I was. I glanced up and stared in disbelief at the happenings in front of me. My eyes set upon a spectacle of red and orange just beyond the broken screen door. Like a stereotypical moth, I was drawn to the flames that had been ignited in the middle of the ground covered in freshly fallen snow. A small pool of melted snow began to form at the base of the fire pit. We stood around a huge bonfire in Mark’s backyard, the flames so hot they bit the frost out of the frozen evening. I took the empty VHS and stomped on it until it began to break and crush under the pressure of my boot. After I was satisfied that it had been damaged enough, I picked up the pieces. Then in most surreal of instances, I threw them, along with the curling magnetic tape, into the blazing inferno to the soundtrack of campfire favorites. I threw up as I watched it burn, my fear turning to sadness. My every breath became suffocated in silent sobs, the teardrops melting into my clothing. The rest of the night we sat around that fire, my innocence dying with each ember until the fire was extinguished, and so was I.