The sound was like music to her ears. An orchestrated masterpiece. One pop. Two pop. Three. A crackle there and another here. A loud snap and a grand boom for the finale.

Encore! Encore! Encore!

She smiled wide. Her eyes shone bright. She danced and jumped and swung her arms wildly around her, mimicking the movement of the flames. It might have been the most joyous moment of her life. She finally felt free. She was free.

The flickering flames lit up the surrounding area and cast long, dark shadows across the gathering crowd, hiding the contorted and judgmental faces of those watching.

Isn’t it lovely? Isn’t it beautiful?

She laughed wickedly, filling the silence around her. She danced more and more spinning in erratic circles. Her fingers would brush against the flames, burning them little by little with every touch. She slowly came to a stop, standing there admiring the gallantly burning fire. She dropped to the ground trying to catch her breath, her chest quickly rising and falling.

They deserved it. They all deserved it.

She was roughly pulled to her feet by a pair of hands on each arm. She dropped her head back to look at the two officers dragging her away from the burning structure. They begin to read her her rights, as if she was listening. She laughed maniacally, occasionally coughing due to the smoke, as they brought her to the police car.

“She’s a fucking nutjob.”

“Just cuff her and put her in the car.”

The crowd cheered as the car pulled away from the scene. She looked out the window and marveled at the sight.

Look how they cheer for me! Look! Look!

She watched admirably as the crowd suddenly turned toward the fire and became silent. The fire has fully engulfed the building, forcing it to crumble to the ground.

I have many siblings but one sister I am particularly closer to. She comes to my place often and we both do our grocery shopping together every week. Every time she comes over, one of the first things she does is immediately head to the kitchen to look for something to snack on. Since I am a year older than she is, she has made it my "older sister obligation" to feed her. I now make sure there is no food for her to snack on the days that she comes just so she can't raid my kitchen.

One day, it just so happens that she finds something to snack on. Now let me say this for a better perspective. I come from a big family with me being the only skinny one. My sister lost a lot of weight after high school and doesn't want to gain any back, so she quite literally snacks throughout the whole day except dinner and sometimes breakfast. So back to it, she comes in hungry and goes straight to the kitchen looking for a snack while shouting about my "older sister obligations." Apparently it is my job to make she does not go hungry. I tell her to stop taking my food but she has already found the cheese. She just so happens to love cheese. She takes it out of the fridge and starts munching on a slice. As she's eating, she starts looking for the calories to see how much a slice is. On her second piece of cheese, she sees the calories and says, "Damn, one slice is 90 calories? I ate two, that's like 160 calories."

I had to stop looking at the phone and really process what she just said. I look at my boyfriend to make sure he heard the same thing I did. He looks back at me and says, "Just don't say it."

I did not listen. "Did you just say 160?"

She looks at me and says with the utmost confidence, "Yeah. 90+90 is 160."

I can literally feel the disappointment on my face. "What's 9+9?"

"18. Why?" Her gears finally start turning as I stare at her dumbstruck. "Oh wait! It's 180!" She laughs boisterously.

All I can do is just stare at her. "Oh my God. You're really gonna be someone's lawyer one day."

My beautiful lovelies. My precious babies. All I can hope for is for both of you to be wonderful people. To be able to stand up for yourselves, to love instead of hate, to respect unless disrespected, to experience love and heartbreak and love again, to find something you truly enjoy doing and to be happy and accepting of who you are. There's so much I want for you both, but so much I'm unable to give you. Sometimes I feel sorry that I might not be competent enough for a mother for you guys but, regardless, I try my best everyday. I hope that you guys are able to live long lives, but secretly I feel guilty for birthing you two into a dying world.

You guys are far too young to have caused me any disappointments, but I'm overloaded with my own for not being able to start you guys off with the life I hoped I could. I promised myself that I would never bring either of you into this world in the same situation that I was in, but I failed to keep it. I'm sorry I couldn't do better. Not just me, but your father too, are doing everything we can to make sure you guys can spend the rest of your childhood in a place we were never able to spend ours.

All I can truly wish for is the happiness for my beautiful lovelies.

Looking into their ordinary brown eyes as if they are the most beautiful things that you have ever seen. Staring longingly at their peaceful, sleeping face. Feeling immediately better by their touch or presence. Laughing together at the stupidest and smallest of things. Finding time to spend together, even if it's only for a few minutes. Sitting in silence but enjoying each other's company. Doing something that they love, even though you hate it, because you know it'll mean the world to them. Working on flaws that you never cared to pay attention to in order to improve the relationship. Accepting their differences and imperfections.

Having small arguments, fights, and disagreements but never being disrespectful or belittling the others perspective. Being angry or sad with them for a short period of time. Going hours without talking to each other but still making sure that they're ok. Spending some time apart without needing to be together all of the time. Little physical contact. Working long hours in order to have time together in the future. Not getting married but being together. Finding a way to work with the possible differences in love language.

There's so much more that I'm sure I'm missing something.