Ignite
The sand was ghostly white underneath the July sun. Slow and green and vibrant rolled in the waves of Lake Michigan, leaving behind shattered shells and the remains of dead and dying creatures. The ceaseless susurration of the water and smooth silver liquid that curved to the distant horizon was elating yet not enough to catch the lonely pitiful eyes of Melody Fields who was seated nicely underneath a sweet- smelling looming Oak tree with a book in her hands and her legs shaking with the anguished and haunted memories that never ended in her mind, even when she found herself screaming out in utter desperation for the frustrating scenes to cease existence in her head. The thoughts, they remained much like the clouds remained overhead daring for a storm that would send waves pushing in lost dreams. They remained as sure as the sun glistened on top of the silvery green pursue of rolling hills of the lake water. They simply remained.
Inevitably, no amount of stillness could suppress the memories in all of their vividness. No matter how much pain the black surface of the remembrance caused, Melody aggressively held on to the sacredness of them knowing that nothing in the world would bring her down to earth more than the repeating hallucinations in mind. If Melody was a crier she would’ve not wrung out every poised tear even years later, the screams of the visions still stung her ears and the feeling of fear ripped into her heart as if she were still in the house on that infamous day. The day was as colorful to her now as it was then, scenes hitting her not all at once but in fragments, in troubling veils. There was so much fire, in not only the physical sense but metaphorically as well. Not only had Melody lost her family, she’d lost them in the middle of a fight, in the middle of a distinct argument, she’d lost them after hearing the last words of her sister Lisa, which were not comforting and left her with an empty feeling of hollowness. I hate you. Those were the words that imposed her into a desperate state of vexed depression. She’d not said sorry to her sister before she died, she hadn’t said anything. Throughout the five years of dejection caused by the final words of her lost sibling Melody blamed her own self.
Someone had left the stove on, and though the flashes of her frozen immobility and distinguished flames remained luminous to her, who had caused the radiance of it all was forgotten after the moments that followed rushing out of the house to realize that the others were still inside. Melody vibrantly recalled the firefighters holding her back as she struggled to loosen their grasp, anything to help Lisa, but no one did a thing.
At first she had even blamed the witnesses and professionals who did not rush in the house in a frequent attempt to save an innocent life, but now she had only to hold herself responsible for the combustion. Indefinable and unseen was who was really to blame but she supposed it was time to move on which was why she had come to Lake Michigan, to face the happy memories before traveling into the blackest depths of her recollections.
The sun was setting on the water. It was black in the west but overhead the clouds were laced with pink silk and purple specks across the tide. Indigo filigree against the blue faded slightly into a light orange as the sun glittered and morphed into the smoky water that was now shimmering with a light, faint glow. Through the July heat and thin haze of daytime Melody let out a sigh and began to concentrate on the trembling waters and clean air of Lake Michigan.
In plain view of Melody a family full of exhilarant laughter bounded around the sand hills to meet the sunset and rushing green blinking water. The sound of it made Melody lurch in uneasiness, agitation. The discomfort came from the thought of another lost family member in the conflagration. Little Mia was only nine years of age when it happened. Melody would never forget the unquenchable joy that always suffused in her eyes when praised for her uniqueness or unusual talents such as being able to put her feet behind her head. She was always under the implication that the world had nothing appalling in it and that family would never fail her. Melody wished she had had Mia’s sense of positivity and reliance. At one time the significance of amusement would put a grin on Melody Fields face, now the thought of it was nauseating and unbearable. It filled her with anguish and mourning that she would never again hear it come from little Mia’s mouth.
