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The firefighter
Chapter one: The year before.
Page 1
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," everyone sang as they gathered around me as I sat there muffling the sound of the song deep in thought. *Wow 29 years old and I have nothing to my name besides my son who I was extremely proud of.* As I drifted into the loss I had gone through during the previous years almost as if I was doing a pros and cons list of the gains and loses. Starting from back when I could remember.
"What did you wish for?" One of my family asked, snapping me back into the reality I was in. Politely smiling I stated "if I tell you it wouldn't come true!" Smirking as I had gotten up and eat somewhere else. Hearing little foot steps running up going "momma are you going to have a piece of cake?" Looking at him I said "me? No I dislike cake it's texture is off putting for me but how bout you take my piece to?!" As he cheers and goes "yay momma said I could have her piece."
I few hours go by and the loud obnoxious chatter dies down, and I am still thinking about my gains and losses. In the end I some how managed to think of the jobs I wanted to do, the dream jobs I call em. There was Anthropology, forensic CSI, I always wanted to work for the Smithsonian. A surgeon, but I finally settled with the idea of becoming a firefighter.
Page 1
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," everyone sang as they gathered around me as I sat there muffling the sound of the song deep in thought. *Wow 29 years old and I have nothing to my name besides my son who I was extremely proud of.* As I drifted into the loss I had gone through during the previous years almost as if I was doing a pros and cons list of the gains and loses. Starting from back when I could remember.
"What did you wish for?" One of my family asked, snapping me back into the reality I was in. Politely smiling I stated "if I tell you it wouldn't come true!" Smirking as I had gotten up and eat somewhere else. Hearing little foot steps running up going "momma are you going to have a piece of cake?" Looking at him I said "me? No I dislike cake it's texture is off putting for me but how bout you take my piece to?!" As he cheers and goes "yay momma said I could have her piece."
I few hours go by and the loud obnoxious chatter dies down, and I am still thinking about my gains and losses. In the end I some how managed to think of the jobs I wanted to do, the dream jobs I call em. There was Anthropology, forensic CSI, I always wanted to work for the Smithsonian. A surgeon, but I finally settled with the idea of becoming a firefighter.
