Scarred

Then

July 4th, 2000

A kaleidoscope of colors pulsed across the sky milliseconds before ear-splitting explosions punched at my eardrums. It was barely dark enough to see the sparks, yet people had been celebrating for hours, most breaking the law to do so. Since it was a holiday and the dance studio was closed, my mom finally talked me into joining some of her friends near Bunker Hill to watch the fireworks.

We planned to stay at her best friend's house for the night, but my stubbornness to perfect my dance routine had me anxious to get home. I had practice tomorrow and would kick myself if I missed it. So, turning away from the light show, I got my mom's attention and told her I needed to go home. I insisted that she stay and let me take a taxi home. But refusing, she said, "You're crazy if you think I'm going to let my sixteen-year-old daughter take a taxi home alone."

Saying a quick goodbye to her friends, she instructed me to get in the car. Phoebe McAdams knew that I was just as stubborn as she was, and she knew that  I wouldn't relent. So we spent the twenty-minute drive to our house with her telling me that I needed to slow it down, relax, and have fun. To which I replied, "Dance is fun. The studio is my happy place. I don't dance for anyone but myself, you know that."

"Honey, I know you love the art of dance. I do. And I don't want you to quit. But you view yourself as competition. And the problem with only competing against yourself is that you have to live with the competition. You'll never win."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom," I scoffed.

" That's not what I meant. I just mean that it's an endless cycle. And quite frankly, kiddo, I miss you."

"Mom, I'm right here." I rolled my eyes. "We see each other every day."

"Maybe in passing, but we don't spend much time together. You're pushing yourself so hard that you can't make room for anything or anyone else."

"I miss you too.." I said sheepishly, realizing that I couldn't remember the last time we spent time together before tonight.

"Do me a favor?"

"Mmm, I don't know...depends on what it is." I raised a brow waiting for her to continue.

"Humor me..." She laughed. "Let's rent a room, watch movies, and order room service in the morning. Just the two of us."

"Mom, I have two practices tomorrow. Did you forget why we are going home?"

"Shh, I know. We'll stay at the hotel across the street from the studio. You won't miss gymnastics or dance." Her eyes held so much hope. I couldn't say no.

"Fine, but we need to stop at home so I can get my bag." I had deliberately 'forgot' my dance bag earlier because I knew I wouldn't be staying.

"Stay here while I grab it." My mom ordered once we pulled into the driveway.

She was probably afraid that I would get in the front door and immediately change my mind. She wasn't wrong.

I watched her jog up the front steps, the light from the porch illuminating against her long brown hair. Just before she unlocked the door, she turned to me and held up her index finger, silently telling me she'd only be a minute. Seconds later, the door closed behind her, and the windows lit up as the lights flicked on.

I closed my eyes, listening to the explosion of the fireworks outside my cracked window. Then, peeking through my eyelashes, I could just make out the blur of yellow sparks against the dark summer sky. I don't know how long I sat there drowning in the beauty and wonder of it all.