Little Fires

Music faintly played from my truck radio as I sat and toyed with my cigarette. The bed of my truck was cold on my ass made it numb. I took another drag out of my cigarette listening to the wind through the forest. I looked up at my childhood home, my own personal hell. I looked up at the top left room and saw my brother's battered dinosaur curtains. I sadly smiled as I remembered how much he begged me for curtains so the monsters couldn't see him. He was always scared of the forest that engulfed our house. Our house was isolated from everyone, and at night it felt like you were in this deep dark abyss. The only thing that pierced through those terrible nights was our flickering porchlight which made ominous shadows against the grass and trees. I sighed and took another drag from my cigarette. The hum of my truck was the only comfort I had left. Fuck. The smell of gas and blood swirled around me making my stomach twist and turn. This was all real. I closed my eyes to keep tears from spilling and tried to remember why. Why it had to be this way.