Jim drove back home and Blitz softly drummed with the beat of the radio on the dash, humming happily along with the lyrics as falling snow danced across the windshield..

“What has you so happy, anyway?” Jim smiled.

“It’s almost new year's, Jimmy! Another year we didn’t die!” Blitz grinned. “My blood is pumping!” She punched Jim in the arm, softly for her, but it would still leave a bruise. “What do you think we should do this year to celebrate?”

“Well I’m pretty sure Carl won’t let us do fireworks again.” Jim chuckled. “You know how he gets whenever we have to pop teenagers.” He turned to me, grinning godingly. I bet you remember that, huh?

I warned you.

What? He asked, eyes squinted, confused.

Time, and time again.

You’re gonna have to be more specific, anyway. Jim said, turning to me completely. You’re always spouten’ shite.

“Jimmy, watch out!” Blitz shouted, and Jim slammed on his brakes, skidding slightly on the frosted street. In front of us were cops directing traffic, with fire engines down the road. Our road.

I told you and you didn’t listen.

“No...” he whispered.

“What the fuck is going on?” Blitz asked, trying to look past the cops.

You never listen.

Jim burst out of the jeep and darted past the cops into the cold night air, yelling through the sudden pain that appeared in our throat. “Carl!”

Too distracted.

“Jimmy!” Blitz shouted after us.

By all this fucken' noise.

“Fucking useless! “ Shouted one of the cops. “Why didn’t one of you idiots stop him!”

I knew it would end this way.

Jim reached the foot of our lawn before being grabbed by the cop. He wore a brown suit, had a short brown beard with flakes of grey, despite being only twenty eight, and long curly brown hair, and tattoos that were swirls of color. 

But you just HAD to run the show.

“Hold on, Jim, hold on.” Said Uncle Mike, as he pulled us away from the inferno that was our house.

“NO!” Jim roared into the night, trying to pull away in a fury.

“Jimmy, calm down!” Blitz shouted, just running up to us. “What the hell is going on?! Why the fuck is our house on fire?! Where’s dad?!”

Uncle Mike was finally able to pull Jim away, dragging him past Blitz and towards the EMTs.

“Uncle Mike?” Blitz said weakly.

“Hey, can I get some blankets over here?” Uncle Mike shouted off at the EMTs.

“Uncle Mike?” She said, barely more than a whisper.

Was it worth it, Jim?

Jim fell from Uncle Mike’s grasp, to his knees, in the snow.