The last time I saw him was in that rectangular shaped box I refused call a coffin. I considered it more of an eternal bed. I just wish he would’ve jumped out the window with me, but he was always scared of heights. I looked up to him even though he was only five days older. Max was adventurous… WE were adventurous. Ya know? It was his birthday the day it happened. We just wanted to celebrate his birthday with just us two. My mom always told me not to play with fire, but Max had a pretty good point, he WAS eight now. And I trusted him. As he stuck the match against the white box, I could see a glimpse of regret wipe across his face. He lost grip of the match and it flew to the ground igniting the white carpet. We sat in shock motionless for a few moments as the flame engulfed the room. When I came to my senses I saw the window and ran for it. I yelled for Max to follow and he said he was. I jumped, and my arm took the impact, I can still hear the snap as well as the scream that followed out of my mouth. I ran to the neighbor and she dialed 911. They were quick to arrive. As they put out the flame one of the men came walking out with max dapped over their arms. The fighter expressed a look disappointment, but I read nothing into it. As the EMS addressed my arm I could see Max on a stretcher as the officer covered his face and body with a white sheet.
So today, its my birthday and I’m sitting in a pew just 5 days after we sat around that cake with a box of matches.