Box Of Matches | ✓

34

Ariel slid into her car, her mind set with a determined focus. She didn't need directions; the route to the beach house was so ingrained in her memory that she could drive it with her eyes closed. The drive was almost automatic—familiar landmarks passed by in a blur, and the comforting hum of the engine was a steady presence in the quiet night.

Colby's concern weighed on her mind. When she had told him she was "burning it all down," his confusion was palpable. He had no way of knowing her exact intentions or where she was headed, but she was certain he would check her location and follow her. She could almost see his worried expression as he tried to piece together her cryptic message.

A quick detour to a nearby gas station was her next stop. She pulled in and filled up the gas canisters she had grabbed from the garage. The rhythmic thud of the gas pump and the hiss of fuel filling the canisters were oddly soothing amidst her emotional storm. After paying, Ariel returned to her car, her resolve steeling with each step.

The journey continued, the steady rhythm of her tires on the asphalt punctuating the silence of the night. As she neared the beach house, her anticipation grew. The house loomed ahead, its silhouette outlined against the darkened sky, a somber reminder of the dreams and memories she had associated with it.

She parked as close to the house as she could manage, the crunch of gravel under her tires marking the end of her journey. Her hands trembled slightly as she shifted the car into park, but she quickly suppressed her anxiety, focusing on her task.

In the distance, the headlights of a red Toyota Corolla appeared, cutting through the darkness. Colby had arrived. She had known he would follow, but seeing his car now, the reality of her actions felt even more pressing.

Ariel took a deep breath, her heart racing as she prepared to execute her plan. She grabbed the canisters from the back seat, the weight of them a tangible reminder of the closure she sought. Stepping out of the car, she glanced back at the approaching Corolla. The headlights cast long shadows on the ground, and she could make out Colby's silhouette in the driver's seat.

Determined, Ariel walked towards the beach house, the cool night air mixing with the faint scent of gasoline. She was ready to face whatever emotions or confrontations awaited her. As she approached the front of the house, her mind was focused solely on the act of symbolic liberation she was about to perform.

The house stood silent and still, an echo of her past now ready to be transformed by fire. Ariel moved with purpose, pouring the gasoline in strategic spots around the exterior of the house, her movements methodical and precise. The red Toyota Corolla pulled up behind her, and Ariel could see Colby stepping out of the car, his face a mask of concern and confusion.

Despite her emotional turmoil, Ariel felt a strange sense of calm. The burning of the beach house wasn't just about destroying physical objects; it was about shedding the weight of her past and making space for a new beginning. The house, with its memories and associations, was a symbol of what she needed to leave behind.

As Colby approached her, his footsteps were soft on the gravel. His voice, when he spoke, was gentle but filled with worry. "Ariel, what are you doing?"

Ariel paused, looking back at him. "I'm making a clean break," she said, her voice steady despite the tumult within her. "I need to let go of everything that this house represents."

Colby looked at her, his eyes searching her face for understanding. "This won't solve everything, Ariel. It might even make things worse."

Ariel hauled the five-gallon gasoline containers from her trunk and slammed them down with enough force to make her car shudder. The impact was jarring, and she felt a surge of frustration bubbling up.

Colby, who had been watching from a few paces away, glanced between Ariel, the trunk, and the gas tanks with evident concern. "Ri, what are you doing?"

Ariel shot him a sharp look. "Why does it matter?"

Colby raised an eyebrow at her tone. "Arielle, what's in your pocket?"

"Why are you looking at my back pocket?" Ariel retorted, her voice laced with irritation.

"Why are we here?"

"Why are you asking so many questions?" Ariel snapped, her patience wearing thin.

Colby fell silent, following her as she trudged toward the edge of the beach. The night was enveloped in darkness, the clouds obscuring the moon and casting a heavy shadow over the sand. Ariel carried two tanks in her hands, her movements determined but unsteady. Colby's worry was palpable, though she couldn't quite understand why.

She uncapped the containers with a flick of her thumbs, her gaze fixed on the distant outline of the beach house. The wind carried the faint scent of gasoline, mingling with the salty sea air.

"Ariel, you're not taking me seriously right now."

Ariel didn't break her stride. "You told me to take him out of my life and burn all the memories."

"Metaphorically!"

Ariel's anger was a raging storm, eclipsing any semblance of reason. The acrid smell of gasoline stung her nose, but it was overshadowed by the fury driving her actions. She continued to douse everything in sight with the flammable liquid, her movements almost mechanical. The idea of setting fire to it all seemed secondary to the emotional blaze consuming her.

When the first pair of cans was empty, Ariel returned to her car and grabbed the remaining containers. Colby watched helplessly, unsure how to intervene. Despite his uncertainty, he stood by, his concern for Ariel growing with each passing minute.

Ariel methodically repeated her actions, saturating every inch of the beach house, even climbing the stairs to cover the upper floors. Her rage seemed to fuel her, driving her to pour every last drop from the extra cans she had brought along.

Finally, she stepped back from the house, her chest heaving as she reached into her back pocket. She pulled out a small box, her hands trembling with the weight of her emotions. Before she could open it, Colby placed his hand over hers.

"Don't."

Ariel looked at Colby, her eyes burning with the intensity of her resolve and anger. The silence between them was heavy, the night air thick with the scent of gasoline and unspoken words.

"Let me do this." she said. "I need to finish what I started."

With that, she struck a match and lit it, her hands steady as she set the flames to the gasoline. The fire took hold quickly, its bright orange glow illuminating the night and casting flickering shadows across the beach house. The flames roared to life, consuming the old structure with a crackling intensity.

Ariel watched as the fire grew, the heat from the flames warming her face. It was both terrifying and cathartic. She felt the release she had been seeking, the flames burning away not just the physical remnants of her past, but also the emotional baggage that had been weighing her down.

Colby stood beside her, silent but present, his eyes fixed on the fire. The crackle of the burning house was the only sound in the otherwise still night.