The Works

Hello

I have this theory; we're all fireworks. Man-made, molded to who we are by our creators. While some of us malfunction and dither, others erupt strong and beautiful. You could be the show stopper, the grand finale, or maybe you're the little white spark that accompanies, or maybe you're the upside down smiley face. I always imagined myself as the one that begins the show. The one that all the seven year olds are practically having a stroke while waiting to see the first burst of light. I'm there to start, but by the end, I've been completely forgotten. That's my life.

Ironically, I've never actually seen a firework show. I know what you're thinking, what the hell? Yeah, it just never happened. My parents didn't believe in fireworks, whatever that means. I'm about to turn seventeen and I've been bungee jumping and I've even jumped out of a plane, but I'd turn over all of that, just to see some damn fireworks. A real show. Sure, I've looked up videos, seen pictures, or I could by the cheap ones that you light yourself. But, that's not the same, it doesn't have the same wow factor.

I'm not from a huge town or a small town, somewhere in between I guess, and the only occasion that fireworks are displayed for is Independence Day, which was yesterday, and you guessed it, I was cooped up at home, not seeing fireworks. I don't know why they are so important to me, maybe it's just one of those things that you build so much in your mind when you're little, that you just can't let go. Who knows?

My name is Abielle Noelle Isabelle Marcelle, yeah, seriously. My mother named me after three different people...and they ALL rhyme, and of course my names rhyme with my last name too. Thank you, Mother. And, no, the middle two are not middle names, my first name is Abielle-Noelle, while my middle name is Isabelle. So, it's Abielle, or Ella. Thanks. Only a few people reserve the right to call me Abielle.

I met him in autumn. He was weird. He popped up out of nowhere and screwed everything up. The kid was a mystery and you know me, to curious for my own good, I delved, deep, and ruined nearly everything. His name was Chase, Chase Anthony, and he completely rearranged my life, in the most beautiful way imaginable. Then I met Brody and things took an even bigger turn.

Friday, October 16th. I prepared for the day. A black waist high skirt, fluttering down to my mid thigh, with black tights, a thick navy blue sweater, a mustard yellow scarf throttling my neck, and slick oxfords. My dark hair crown braided to my scalp and my charm bracelet attached to my wrist, completing my state week outfit. My school's high ranking marching band would be competing for the state title tomorrow night, and internally, I was a wreck. It was my first year as drum major, and we had won 13 years in a row. I was a leader and if I screwed up...

Inhale, exhale. I also had an AP World History exam first period, and a volleyball tournament the day after tomorrow, plus an Orchestra Council meeting after school, of which I was the president, and tomorrow morning, a three hour cello lesson, but I've had worse weeks.

6:45 AM:
I head toward my locker, mug of chamomile in hand opposite to my notes on the fall of the Roman Empire, with my eyes barely open. I had gotten an hour and a half of sleep, but that's usually what I get. I pass by the music hall, and hear the pit and battery in their sectionals, which definitely opens my eyes and ears. I stop in front of my locker and smile at the sign that reads: "box'em in at state!", only the drum majors, I laugh. I hear a voice behind me and it startles me.

"Nice, huh? That'd be Nathaniel for ya." A co-drum major of mine, and my best friend, Remy squeals from behind me.

"Haha. Jesus, how do you have so much energy this early?"

"Honey, please." He snaps at me all sassy, as he is. The boy's known he was gay since he was ten, and somehow he is beyond the chipper, always. I turn to him and smile lazily. His smile diminishes and he slaps his hands on my face. "Honey, how much sleep did you get last night?" He rubs his thumbs under my eyes.