The Burning of Blueberry Hill Part 2 by Bonnie Glassco

I made the long drive to the house. I parked my car in a wooded area back behind the property. It was far enough away from everything that it wouldn't be spotted. I came up the backside of Blueberry Hill. It was 11pm and still. There wasn't a soul around. I crept up the hill and made my way through the back yard. I picked the back door open and went inside. Never in my thirty-eight years had I seen this house empty. I started to cry and I hit the kitchen floor. This house meant everything to me and I was about to burn it to the ground. What the hell is wrong with me? I can't stand to see it mistreated and all my memories stolen. I have to be in control of this situation.

I walked through the house and went room to room. I felt Granny and Papa holding my hands. All the joy and laughter, the pain and heartache was there. The good times hurt the worst. I couldn't touch any part of the house or yard with out it having an overwhelming memory. I smiled through my tears. I knew I'd be haunted forever if I didn't burn this house and put these memories to rest. This was the house my dad grew up in. Lucky for me it needed some electrical work. I went to the breaker box and took a look. I flipped off the kitchen breaker and got to work. I pulled out the dishwasher from the counter and cut the hot wire. I wired it back together the wrong way. I put it back in the wall and put my tools back in my pockets.

The dishwasher was back in place. I sure hope this works. It took me a while to memorize the wiring diagram for it. It had been recalled a few times. I made my way back to the fuse box and flipped the breaker back on. I had left the dishwasher on the drying cycle. Sparks started flying from the dishwasher. I heard fuses starting blowing. The smell was awful. Then it happened. The insulation around the dishwasher caught fire. It started to go up the wall. I watched it dance up the wall and to the ceiling. Damn I need to get out of here. I turned to go for the backdoor and I tripped over my feet.

I was dazed for a moment and quickly realized I had to get the hell out now. The fire had spread to the living room and I totally forgot about the natural gas. I got myself up and to the door. I fell down the back steps after shutting the door. I crawled down the porch and pulled myself up against the outer wall of the house. My ankle was sprained. I had to get moving because I wasn't in the clear. I hobbled through the yard as fast as I could. My ankle was killing me but I wasn't going to get caught. I could not get caught. I got to the end of the back yard and started to go down the hill to the field. I turned around to look at the house. Most of it was on fire. It was bright. I smiled and kept moving.

I got to the woods just over the property line when I heard the explosion. I turned my head in time to see the house light up the night sky as it blew into thousands of tiny pieces. Holy Shit I just blew up Blueberry Hill. I wanted to burn it to the ground not blow it sky-high. Damn I screwed this up pretty good. I was going to climb a tree and watch it go. Hell there wasn't anything left standing. It was just a burning pile where a house once stood. I have to get the hell out of here now. I made my way through the woods. I got to the car about the time I heard sirens. I opened the trunk and changed my clothes. I sprayed myself down with body spray. I used dry spray shampoo on my hair so I wouldn't smell like an arsonist. I hid my black clothes under the spare tire.

I got in the car and drove out of the woods. Lucky for me there wasn't anyone living in the house on what was left of the road to the woods. I turned my lights on and got on the road going the opposite direction of Blueberry Hill. I cut through the country and stayed off the main road. I was nervous. I drove the speed limit and tried not to worry. I wasn't sad that the house was gone. I felt like I'd done the right thing. I finally made it home unnoticed. I got my fire starting clothes out and threw them in the washer. I jumped in the shower and quickly got rid of any smell of lingering smoke. I put on my pajamas and hopped into bed. I turned on the TV to watch a movie. I was relaxed and at peace.

I dozed off to sleep at some point. I woke up to the phone ringing. It was my dad calling me at 6am. Something was wrong. He never called at 6am. Then I remembered I blew his parents’ house up in the night, no big deal. I answered the phone still half asleep. He told me that Granny and Papa's house had burned down in the night. I knew he was upset. I was upset. I told him I was glad everything was out of the house. He told me it started in the kitchen and that the fire chief thought it was old wiring and an overloaded fuse box. I felt terrible because he was upset. It was too late the damage was done.

That afternoon we all met on Blueberry Hill. There wasn't much of the house left at all. The gas explosion took care of that. I looked around and I felt nothing. I wasn't sad. There was no more house to have a hold on me. My memories were not imprisoned inside that house anymore. They were free. It was bitter-sweet for my family I suppose. The house was empty and up for sale. Everything my grandparents owned was already gone. I felt bad for them because they would never be able to drive by the house and take a trip down memory lane. I was relieved it was over. I was no longer a prisoner of Blueberry Hill. I left Blueberry Hill and never gave it another thought. I took my memories with me. I was free.

Bonnie Glassco: I’m a 38yo mother of two boys. We live on a farm. I enjoy farm life and the quiet country. I am an animal lover. I enjoy writing poetry and stories. I’m crazy about cars especially old cars. I would love to restore them one day to a thing of beauty. My blog is:https://yesihavegonemad.wordpress.com/