Cadence

33. Matches

Cadence

Picking up the match box, I stare at the small sticks of wood. Such a small object, one that can destroy lives or be used to celebrate the birth of one.

Opening the wooden box, I take out a match and light it. The flame burns bright in the darkness surrounding me, I bring it up to my lips and light the cigarette.

My stomach fluttering at the small flame being so close to my skin. I breathe in the toxins that will slowly but surely seep into my lungs and destroy their innocence.

I breath out the smoke, watching it drift off into the sky. Adding to the pollution this world carries everyday.

The concrete beneath me is cold and digs into my skin through the thin material of my dress, I breathe in the night air.

One day this wall all be gone, there will be no grass or flowers. No trees or soil. No stars or clear skies.

There will be no animals, no insects and we will miss the sounds of dragon flies zooming around our heads on summer days. We will miss the scents of nature. The beauty of it.

But we won't do anything to stop the destruction of it, it's always the same excuse 'it won't make a difference if one person does it'. When truly, you don't know how many animals or other wildlife you're saving by doing one thing.

I puff on the cancer stick again, breathing it in until the point it hurts, I exhale closing my eyes.

Everything good in this world gets destroyed one way or another.

Take my parents for instance. They were so good, genuine people who wanted the best for me and others surrounding them.

They didn't deserve to die the way that they did.

They didn't deserve any of it, and I don't think that I do either. I've only ever wanted to help people. To stop the world from being as shitty as it is.

"You need any help doing this?" Hope asks from my left.

She's been sitting with me in silence for a good hour now.

"No, you go sit in the car I'll only be a little while longer." I say giving her a reassuring smile over my shoulder.

Taking one last puff of my cigarette I throw it off into the driveway.

Picking up the matchbox and bottle of liquor, I take a sip and walk over to the front of the house.

Opening the door, I walk into the living room, tipping the bottle I let some of the contents pour out onto the sofa cushions and carpet.

Going to the next room I cover the kitchen counters in the liquor. I douse the house from head to toe in it. When I've finished, I walk into his closet and take out one of his most expensive watches.

A keepsake. I tell myself.

Slipping it on my wrist the expensive metal hangs down by my side. It being way too big for my small wrist. I down the rest of the alcohol and light a cigarette.

I take two pulls of the stick, before throwing it onto his bed.

The sheets instantly lighting up in flames.

I stare into them, though this time. Instead of feeling scared of them. I feel powerful. I took the one thing that scares me and turned it into my weapon instead of somebody else's.

Dropping the bottle, I walk out of the room, the fire biting my heels. I feel the heat of it caressing the backs of my legs.

I leave Nicolas Volkovs house. And I don't turn back.

AN

Word count 632

This is kind of a filler chapter, sorry it's not as long as the past one.

Happy reading<3