They say when the music box plays, you hear your fondest memory. I always lied and said it was the sound of the carousel from my favourite fairground - the last place I went with my parents before they passed away. I lie and say they passed away too, it sounds kinder and less planned than it was.
What I actually hear is roasting, bubbling flesh and brutal coughing that fades away into a roaring fire. The fire that killed my parents and set me up for life on their joint insurance. The music box brings me back to that day every time I hear it play and a smile comes to my lips without fail.
It was my worst day and my best day - the day I found out that starting fires was my everything.
What I actually hear is roasting, bubbling flesh and brutal coughing that fades away into a roaring fire. The fire that killed my parents and set me up for life on their joint insurance. The music box brings me back to that day every time I hear it play and a smile comes to my lips without fail.
It was my worst day and my best day - the day I found out that starting fires was my everything.
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