What do you do when you watch your mother die from cancer? Slowly shut down. What do you do when your inspiration to dance dies? That inspiration you have dies right with them. My mother taught me to dance at a young age. She was my teacher in a way. She helped me get into the best dance schools around here. She helped me dream of what I wanted to become.
A dancer.
Funny when someone you love dies, that inspiration, that dream goes right with them. Dancing went from a little girl's dream to a teenager's hobby. I danced, still dance, when my emotions become too much. When she died, my career choice I had since I was a little girl ended when she left this earth. After her death I had no clue what I wanted to be.
That changed when I saw my brother get murdered in cold blood. My brother is, well was, four years older than me. My mother died when I was fourteen and Landon was eighteen. Six months later he went to college to get away from here. It sucked watching him pack his truck up with his belongings. He looked out his window and had the saddest eyes yet he tried to be brave and put on a smile that was his mask. It hurt watching his black truck barrel down the street and out of town. I don't even think he looked back in his rearview mirror. I don't think he even noticed me chasing after him down the road. Because his big black truck still barreled down our road and out of sight.
When I was seventeen, his college had family night. Father couldn't come but I made the six hour drive. I came to his family night. The day went great; we laughed a lot, smiled even more, joked about everything. We took a lot of pictures just so I could have them plastered on my wall. It felt amazing to have my brother around again. Even if it was just for another few hours. He had left to get pizza for dinner while I stayed in his apartment. When he got back he called to tell me he was downstairs. I went trudging along to help my brother carry everything in. As I rounded the corner with the drinks in my hand; he was almost to the stairs that lead up to his apartment. Before I could scream, blink, nor think; a guy ran up behind my brother and shot him three times in his back.
That was the day my world came crashing down. That was the day my hero, my big brother, died in my arms. He shouldn't have died at twenty one years old; he should still be alive and kicking it. No, he's been dead for five years now and slowly my pain has healed but the wound in my chest still is there. It won't ever go away. It hasn't for our mom and I know it won't for him either.
They caught the guy within days of his murder. Come to find out, it was mistaken identity. He killed the wrong person. He stole an innocent life over a mistaken identity. The idiot ended up getting life in prison with no possibility of parole. If you can kill anyone for no valid reason. A great reason to shoot to kill for example: a burglar breaking into your house. But, I also think you deserve to rot in jail. However, I would shoot them in the foot or shoulder. I don't think I could kill a soul to be honest. But, my brother didn't deserve to die yet he did. And here I am without my biggest supporter. Without my rock, my shoulder, my crutch in life.
My senior year I lost everything but in the mist of losing everything; I found the career I wanted. I graduated the top of my class and got into the same college my brother went to. Crazy how I ended up at the same college he went too, the same area he died at. I went for forensic science. I can work in any forensic lab and can work any of the equipment. However, with my degree I chose to become a crime scene specialist. I gather evidence in any crime; I follow all the rules while gathering any evidence. After everything is collected, I go straight to the lab and begin my magic. To me, I want to help victims in any crime. Most can't speak from the grave. However, I can speak for them. My brother's death is what caused me to pick my career.
My love life has been shit since for as long as I can remember. I manage to pick the coals out in the bunch of diamonds. I know I'll find love one day, I just hope it'll be like my parents' love they had for each other. The kind of love you don't see much anymore. The rarest kind of love. No one has gotten my heart to skip any beats. That was until I saw him. He caused my brain to fry, my mouth to stop working, and my heart to skip a few dozen beats. He lit a fire inside me that I didn't know I had. A fire that doesn't go out; not unless he has a fire hose. Ironically, he's a firefighter. So, he should have a hose to put out this blazing fire that's within me.
The past three years I have tried to get to know him. But, his walls are so high up; I couldn't even climb it with his quint 51's ladder. How tall must one's walls be? His answers are short and chip. If he doesn't answer, it's always a nod or a shake of his head. Afterwards he hits the hill like his ass is on fire. He's a mystery that I'm wanting to solve. His laugh isn't the belly laugh.... It isn't his really laugh. I have heard it only once and it was when his daughter said something to cause him to truly laugh. His smiles never reach his eyes. He has only smiled like that with his daughters.
Why doesn't he smile or laugh? Why is he so distance with everyone but Jackson, Lorelei, and the small group of friends. I'm in the small group of friend yet he keeps me at a distance.
This man is a mystery who has my world set on fire. I don't know if he can put the fire out or if one or both of us will get burned. But, I'm willing to chance the possibility of getting burned; just to put a genuine smile permanently on his lips.
Hopefully I don't get burned too much because I kind of like my hair how it is.
YOU ARE READING
The Fire Within (A small town romance)
RomanceWhen a parent dies, it leaves a hole in the center of your chest. The hole will always be there but over time the pain will ease. When you watch the person who inspires you to become a dancer dies suddenly; your passion for dancing dies with them. W...