Balloons and Fireworks

Balloons And Fireworks

They were both young and stupid; all they wanted was the time of their lives.

Carla’s hair was black like the feathers of a raven and curled intricately and beautifully by means of an iron curler. The dress she wore for the party that night sparkled a rich hue of scarlett, and went down to her knees with matching high heels. Her brother Carlos wore a white t-shirt with jeans and scruffy old shoes. He didn’t care to look refined for that night like Carla did— it was a house party for a bunch of rowdy teens.

When they departed the house, they came upon their once-beautiful street, now strewn with rubble, shrapnel and twisted metal. Long ago the houses were charming and their lawns were well kept, but with the shells exploding everywhere with bombs here and there, the houses became crumpled, sad and dilapidated.

The houses that Carla used to know flashed back into her mind’s eye. The houses looked like fairy cottages, with beautiful big flowers in the front. Some hung on pots, some were in the grass of the lawns. There were many that hung off the windowsill. Sunflowers smiled upon those who passed by like little golden suns. Purple, white, blue and pink lilacs filled the air with their sweet smell. The grass was soft to the touch and the dew that formed on them every morning would feel so fresh and cool on Carla’s skin when she lay on the grass and watched as the sun would rise, releasing colours of red, purple and pink in the sky with the clouds floating about their business as they were carried by the wind, barely noticing Carla.

Alma’s house was to her right and she stopped. The grass was dead and yellow and a hole was blown through the roof. Her high heels tapped on the stone as she cautiously walked up the porch stairs.

“Hey Alma, it’s me, Carla,” her thin, brown fist tapped lightly on the door in morse code. No response.
How many feet below Earth and into the Inferno did her heart drop? What if Alma was used to fill the growling gap that people called their stomach? Was she sick? Medicine was a rare commodity as far as Carla was concerned.

Two birds sat in a tree, which was a rare sight to see. Count by twos until her hand would stop shaking. Two, four, six, eight, ten. Carlos was waiting and tried to hide back a scowl by pressing his lips together. Twelve, fourteen, sixteen, eighteen. The smell of charcoal and sewage filled Carla’s lungs as she tried to steady herself. Twenty, twenty-two, twenty-four, twenty-six. The birds were chirping and lamenting to each other about the trees and food going up in flames. How the flowers don’t bloom anymore.

Carla’s hand was now still and calm like the sea with a light breeze. She knocked on Alma’s door, “the party. You’re still coming, right?”

Alma swung open the door and her blonde hair, which was in a cloud of waves, flew as it caught the wind of the door. Her blue eyes never lost their spark and stars, even with the lack of food and lack of fun. She still held herself strong even if there were explosions combusting left, right and center. A blue dress to match her eyes hugged her almost childlike figure.

Her sleeved arms wrapped around Carla, almost knocking her over. “Hey easy, chica. I’m in heels.”

“Vamanos, then. We only get to party once in a blue moon.”

Carlos checked the paper card and looked at the house when they walked a few more blocks down. “Well, this is the place.”

Carla swung open the door to find that the darkness hollowed out the house with only the red, green, yellow, blue and purple disco lights to illuminate the dance floor and halls. Teens danced about, laughed, drank, gossiped and did all the things that would make her mom scream.

She took off her heels and danced barefoot with Alma. The music vibrated in the ground and filled her ears so that she forgot all about the suffering and misery that was in the real world.

After some time, Carla sat on one of the couches and rubbed her sore feet.

Carlos flashed a red light to Carla. He sat on the staircase that led to the roof, the shadows cast over him.
Carla pulled on her heels and clunked up the stairs with the pouch of balloons in her purse.
The stars shone brightly in the sky that night. The moon illuminated the little town, not taking notice of the hunger, the sickness and the wreckage in the little townspeople's lives.

“Firehose said that he would have a helium pump for our balloons, right?” asked Carlos.
Carla responded, “it’s right here.”
She grasped the plastic bag and tore it open. The balloons were as red like her outfit.
The process was simple and repetitive. They took turns attaching the opening of the balloon to the nozzle of the helium pump. The gas expanded in the balloon and went SSSSS like a snake. One balloon was defective in the package, so Carla threw it out.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…….
…….twenty four, twenty five, twenty six………..
……eighty, eighty one, eighty two, eighty three…………
……….. Ninety five, ninety six, ninety seven, ninety eight, ninety nine.

This all made for ninety nine red balloons.

Carla and Carlos stood on the flat rooftop and released the balloons into the neverending ether of darkness and stars. The balloons floated into the streets like dandelion seeds on a gentle breeze. People looked out from the windows, which used to have glass on them. They were all telling the little children to take cover.

“They were sent to spy on us!”
“Shoot them!”
“They could have cameras inside of them!”
“Take cover!!!!”
The townspeople were yelling throughout the streets and shooting rifles at the balloons.
BANG, BANG, BANG!!! Went the rifles.
POP, POP, POP!! Went the balloons.
BANG, BANG!!
POP, POP!
BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG!!!!!!!
POP, POP, POP, POP!!!!!!!
Right beside Carla was a box of fireworks and she set a few off with a lighter she got from a guy that was serving some pot to smoke.
The fireworks went in bursts of purple, red, blue, white, green and yellow. They blossomed through the sky like flowers in a garden with each a big loud “POP”.
A roar in the sky split Carla’s ears. VROOOOOOOOM!!!!!
A whistle echoed through the balmy and warm air. The object that fell out of the plane faster and faster.
39 seconds for the people within the target to take cover and then, BOOM! The light and fire erupted into the sky like a volcano. More planes roared in with more bombs.
Carla took off her heels and got back into the house with Carlos. Smoke choked Carla and her eyes teared up like she was cutting onions.
The roof of the house fell down and all she could see was fire. Carla was trapped under the rubble and could not breathe. It was like someone put the weight of the whole world on her body, crushing every limb.
One at a time and slowly, she picked herself up part by part. She tried to see through the burning wreck and wobbled as she walked. The walk sped up into a run. She kept running even if her feet were burning from the hot ground. She ran even if the uneven concrete and stone was poking her feet.

“ALMA!!! CARLOS!!!!” She shouted.
She took cover under the awning shade of a boutique. She waited for who knows how long. Tears sprang in her eyes and flowed down her soot covered cheeks. She curled up into a ball in front of the door and heaved each sob out of her body. It’s all my fault. If I had not set up those balloons, then none of this would have happened. I would go home with Carlos and we would go to sleep like nothing ever happened.
She looked up to see Alma leaning on Carlos and limping. Her golden locks were matted with ash, rubble and dirt. She winced everytime she set her foot down, but other than that, her face was blank in utter shock.

“Alma! I am so, so, so very sorry,” said Carla, “I was the one who set off the balloons and caused this mess. I’ll fix your foot if you come to my house.”
“I don’t think you can do anything,” Alma was slumped and sullen, “I’m pretty sure it’s broken. Unless you have a cast or anything, then there’s nothing you can do.”

Later, the two siblings got Alma to a hospital right away. Carla sat by Alma’s bedside and thought of how stupid it was to risk the lives of several people all for a show of balloons and fireworks.