There are many ways of breaking a heart. Stories are full of hearts broken by love, but what really broke a heart was taking away its dream - whatever that dream might be. ~Pearl S. Buck
Callie Sue only wanted four things for her birthday: a bag of balloons, a black Sharpie, a spool of ribbon, and a tank of helium. When she came downstairs on the morning of her birthday, her mom and dad presented her with her requests.
After a quick breakfast, her dad helped Callie Sue drag the helium tank outside and showed her how to work the nozzle. He left her to go watch the sports channel as she spread out her supplies around her on the lawn.
Callie Sue tore open the bag of brightly colored balloons and sorted the balloons by color. Callie Sue ended up with with many balloons of each color except green, there was only one green ballon. She shoved the green balloon into her pocket.
Callie Sue carefully filled each balloon with helium and knotted each with the ribbon and after a while had a colorful bouquet, gently bouncing in the breeze. Each balloon had written on it in black Sharpie a dream, a wish, a desire.
Soon the only balloon left was the green balloon. Callie Sue pulled it out and began to fill the balloon with helium, but the balloon would not stay filled - there was a minuscule tear in the rubber. Callie Sue, after several attempts, managed to write her deepest secret dream - the kind that reside only in the furtherest reaches of the soul - on the balloon before the helium all hissed out and the black print became almost microscopic in size.
Callie Sue figured that a piece of tape over the hole would fix the leak, but before she went inside to find the tape dispenser, she decided to let all the other balloons go. She watched as the balloons separated and rose steadily in elevation, drifting away from their launch point. Callie Sue ran into the house and was rummaging through the desk drawer for tape when she heard a strange pop, pop, pop sound. She grabbed the tape and went back outside - where, in her shock, her fingers let the tape dispenser fall to the ground.
Her brother stood on the edge of the driveway, BB gun in hand, one shot - one ballon popped, one shot - one ballon popped.
“What are you doing?” Callie Sue screamed at him.
He didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder or pause, “Mom said I could - it’d save on pollution.”
Callie Sue stood there, fists shoved into her pockets, wincing at every pop. After too long the balloons were either all dead or out of reach of her brother’s gun. Callie Sue stood next to the helium tank, the leftover ribbon, the green balloon lying in the dust, salt on her cheeks and granite in her chest.
