Remembering Sunday

July 4th, 2010. Was it fair in anyway? No. To make it worse- it was a Sunday. This day had been dreaded from the moment I realized that Independence Day would be on a Sunday this year. I had just awoken from a wonderful but terrible dream.

A memory more like. A memory of the day that changed my life those many years ago and has left me broken from them.

I rolled out of the bed in my small apartment and lazily walked into the bathroom. I turned on the water and walked over to the mirror above the sink. My hair was brown and as messy as could be and my eyes, which were also normally brown, were pink with faint circles underneath them from working so hard. I was one of the executive lawyers for the firm I was currently working with, already. I had been working there since I had finished law school and had easily worked myself up to a very high point in the job in a little amount of time.

Once I was washed and dressed in a suit and tie for work, I went out the door to my car, not bothering to have breakfast. Sure, it was holiday, but what did I have to do other than work? That was my life. Work, eat, and sleep then go and work again.

 While sitting in traffic, I bought the morning’s paper like I always did. I rolled down my window and greeted the fellow as he pulled out the paper. “Morning,” I greeted in a monotone. I handed him a few extra dollars as a tip, he needed it. By the looks of his saggy and filthy clothes, he could use a few extra bucks.

 I walked into the office, it was eight o’ clock. My secretary greeted me while handing me my coffee from Starbucks, “Good morning Mr. Plack.” Her voice was bright and cheerful on this beautiful, fine, holiday morning.

“Morning, Carosheranks,” I replied, using her last name, and walked past her while grabbing the coffee. I began to work on a few files before I couldn’t do it any longer. My mind was filled with the dream I had had.

* “Come on. It’s the Fourth of July; cheer up a bit, would you?” my brother asked while I sat in front of the TV, sulking.

“I’m fine. There’s just nothing to do and we’re having some party and inviting half of the neighborhood-most of whom I don’t necessarily know,” I argued.

“Well, then here’s a chance to meet them.” I rolled my eyes as he walked away. When the party had finally started, I stayed upstairs, away from the party. After an hour, my brother came to fetch me. “Mom wanted me to get you. She says you have to come down and play host for awhile. Come on, it’s great down there. We’re about to do fireworks,” he attempted to excite me.

“Oh, good!” I cheered sarcastically and reluctantly stood then followed my older brother of a year outside.*

I snapped out of the memory and worked on some more files. The morning worked like this. Work, sulk, work, sulk. By the time it was nine thirty, I had done about three cases- worked through the troubles and all that.

I decided to take a break and read the paper a little while eating the jimmy dean breakfast that Carosheranks brought me. “You need to eat,” she always said on mornings that she saw I was not in a pleasant mood, yet she dared to help and talk to me. I took a bite and opened the first page.

The date.

Big bold letters with a flag next to it.

Sunday, July fourth, 2010.

I sighed and continued reading. Fire at a house, everyone lived, few burns. Political things that only worked me up more. Political opinions bugged me, they were never right. I know they were opinions so no one was right or wrong. But they never looked at what the people said they would do and never noticed that they never did it.