Colorado Sunrise
By Erin F.
It was a cold day in January, and the clocks were striking 13. I nervously wondered what would become of this new, unusual place. I was sitting on a park bench near the lake. When I was a kid, I had always resorted to it as an escape from society. It was no longer an escape. I was unable to avoid the commotion of the world around me, as I sat simply trying to enjoy the Colorado sunrise. I sat there, as the clock struck 14… and 15… and 16. The sun barely peaked over the horizon, leaving only the slightest hint of light shining through some lingering clouds. It had been this way all day. But that’s not the real story, the real story started last night.
It was December 31st, 2011. A small handful of people were preparing for the world’s end. Another small handful of people were at home with family, unsure of the hours to come. The rest of the world was mocking the old legends celebrating the New Year, including my friends and me. It was the beginning to our graduating year of high school, class of 2012, and no way were we going to let some legend hold us back. All week we had been preparing the old abandoned lake house for this night. Cleaning and decorating like obsessively crazed children, we had spiced the place up. The night finally arrived. As each and every one of the memorable friends I had met during my school years walked through that doorway, not a thing in the world could stop the corners of my lips from curling upward into a nearly permanent smile. There were tables laden with food and the most extravagant mixed drinks teenagers could conjure up from their dangerous, young minds. The speakers we had hooked up were placed strategically throughout the house so that no matter what room you were in, the music seemed to follow. As midnight temptingly approached, our crowd of friends began to dance there way into the main room of the old battered house that was now transformed into a high school students dream. We danced until our legs screamed with numbness. Vibrant, colorful lights pranced around the room while music flooded our heads, practically drowning out each one of our voices as we began our countdown.
“60! 59! 58! 57!” Our voices cracked as we shouted the numbers as loud as possible.
Glancing around, I took in the expressions of the countless friends that surrounded me in this room. Their faces said it all. I knew these were the irreplaceable moments in life that I would live for. I suddenly realized the smile that was on my face earlier hadn’t changed one bit.
Without a single worry in the house, we eagerly continued the countdown. “10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1!”
The house erupted with whoops and hollers. Party poppers exploded in a multicolored rainfall of streamers and confetti. The rest of the night flew by like a blurry trance. As the first sign of daylight shined over the edge of the glassy lake, the night without sleep started to sink in. I broke out in a yawn as I stepped onto the porch and into the crisp cool air to watch the sunrise, an end to an undeniably perfect night. Everyone seemed to have left already. However, the sunrise was taking an oddly long time and my impatience got the best of me. I wandered back downstairs to check the time, thinking maybe it was earlier than I had assumed. The clock read 11:39. I was instantly confused. I knew that unless the clock had been wrong all night long, it could not possibly be almost noon because the sun had not risen yet. I reached for my life line in my back pocket, and checked the time on my phone. Sure enough, it read 11:39. I figured that something went wrong with the clocks in town. I hurried into my jeep and drove home, my curiosity increasing just as much as my speedometer. I was in awe to find the people in the city were a mess. Everyone looked anxious and terrified. I tore into my driveway and rushed inside. Although my parents’ eyes were glued to the news, I could see the terror hidden behind them.
“Just sit down and watch,” was all my mom could stutter though her pale, tightly clenched lips.
I thumped down onto the couch, shook off my boots, and listened intently to the TV trying to make out some explanation for all the chaos downtown. After countless minutes of mumbo jumbo form the news man, I came to the conclusion that the earth had stopped spinning. Question after question rushed into my mind and out of my mouth. My parents were frustrated as I reminded them that they knew so little information. The news man could not explain what would come next. Apparently scientists were working on theories and hypotheses, but there were no definite answers. There was only one thing they could tell us for certain. This day, January 1st, 2012, would last 8,765 hours. This day would last an entire year.
So now I sit here, on this stone cold park bench. A bench and a lake that had once seemed so familiar and comforting had now turned into something I was completely uncertain of. Would the world crumble before my feet? Would earthquakes and floods dominate the continents? Would everything burst into flames? Would the Earth, as we knew it, end? I dizzied myself with all the questions. Someday I would come to understand the answer to these questions. Until then, all I can do is sit here and long for that breathtaking Colorado sunrise that used to bring me so much warmth and reassurance.