5-20-2015 Fiction

The Red Balloon

I watch the red balloon pass from set of hands to set of hands, always keeping track of exactly where it was. The latex was shiny and new and I felt a sense of pride and happiness looking at it. My little red balloon, filled with water. Friends and family had been invited to the table for a feast and spent the time passing around the balloon. I openly warned everyone who came into contact with the balloon to be careful, but soon it became too loud to get a message through and the table had grown so much in size and occupancy that there was no hope in instructions. I had to rely on trust, after all, there were my closest friends and family.

Most of my guests were gentle. At first. The first one to handle it roughly wasn't paying attention, and while not causing any purposeful harm, he had set a precedence. Others who had previously been very respectful in their handlings, started to wan in attention themselves; and once, the balloon was dropped entirely. It didn't break and splatter everywhere. The man who dropped it merely picked it up, swiped a bit of food that had long ago hit the floor off from the balloon's surface, blew on it for good measure, and passed it on as if it were good as new. I gasped, unnoticed by anyone at the table, for I alone realized the balloon had deflated slightly. The red roundness no longer looked as bright, it was dull with the residue of the hands and debris from the floor it had hit a few more times. Each time it was handed to a new person, I feared they too would drop it. I noticed a very small drizzle; the balloon was leaking!

Then finally, my balloon came into your hands. You looked at it then looked up at me. Your eyes told me that you saw the damage. Your eyes! I memorized them as you pushed back in your seat a little and threw my balloon to the floor. I saw the smile in your eyes as the red balloon burst forth hitting nearby people with water and minute bits of latex. I watched in horror as people at the table delighted in this as if it were a fun game. You never took your eyes off me. You watched me. You smiled at me.

I got up to clean the mess. On hands and knees, I blotted the carpet with towels. I gathered up what pieces were left of my red balloon and held the pieces in my hand as it formed into a fist. You watched me. I felt your eyes on my back. Refusing to even look at you, I took my towels into the other room and threw them in the sink. The latex pieces I held onto so tightly, I pried open my chest and put them back where they had come from and acknowledged with a single tear that now I was indeed empty.