Boom

Quite a spectacle tonight. I was there. Let me start from the beginning.
I went down to the beach with my family unit to catch the fireworks and browse the stands. I got the coolest set of earrings- hoops with a thread snowflake pattern, except in orange. I shall wear them everywhere. My sister got a hot dog, and hopefully asked them to hold the e coli. She's looking a little green, though that might just be from the rest of the evening. I trusted the frozen foods stalls a bit more, and slurped a lemon slushie. The noise is half the appeal of it, and it wouldn't taste quite as good without my sister's annoyance as garnish. Mmm.
We got ourselves settled on the beach away from the speakers blaring obnoxious patriotic music, and got a prime spot right in front of an obnoxious patriotic asshole. You know the type. The one who wishes he were military, and watches war movies all the time, but is far too undisciplined to actually sign up. He got loud, hollering "Bring the rain!" and other slogans while we still had fifteen minutes to go. I didn't turn around, though my I had a few choice words on the tip of my tongue that could have slagged the sand into molten glass. See, I can be polite. It was dark, and we still had five minutes to go when the commotion started. The sea was thick with boats, and I heard hollering from over the waves. Most of the boats had little greenish lights on them, so I thought for a moment they had lifted out of the water. Then the lasers started. Flying robotic hammerhead sharks with rotating laser turrets on their heads. It took a while to process that. The crowd started running pretty much immediately. I wish I could say I stayed behind to protect someone who had fallen and was being trampled. I wish it were that heroic. I stayed because I wanted to see what was going on, and I thought I could tough it out if necessary. Just like all those other idiots left on the beach.
The hammerheads were still about thirty yards out when the asshole behind me started stripping. I noticed it when his pants landed on my towel and he bolted past me, heading for the water. I got a brief glimpse of something I really wish I hadn't seen, and then he shot out over the water like a jet. Exactly like a jet, in fact. Right down to the blistering streams of fire propelling him. I didn't see his next move, because I was about ten feet away from my previous position, blinking the white hot afterimage out of my eyes and shielding my face from the spray of burning sand he kicked up. Yeah, that's Firecracker. Our hero.
He'd pretty much ruined my night vision, so all I saw were crazy streaks of light every time he maneuvered and blasted a shark blimp, but I heard the boats frantically bumping and roaring to get away. The police boats were whooping, the sharks were making an eerie feedback screech, and Firecracker was bawling "Get some!" as the exploding sharks rippled back soundwaves from the condos for double the ridiculous amount of noise. By this time I had enough sense to retreat under a lifeguard hut, since at least two dozen sharks were out over the beach, using their lasers like catfish use their feelers. They weren't burning anything, though I kept my eyes far away from the lights bouncing off the sand. Blindness, you know.
The other people under the lifeguard hut were predominantly male, young, and the type to surf in a hurricane. I don't surf, but we got along fine, whispering commentary and muffled shrieks as if this were a sporting event. In a way, it was. Firecracker was giving a lot better than he got. The sharks mostly veered away from him, sweeping their lasers over the boats beneath. The details got a bit blurry, since a huge cloud of steam from Firecracker's propulsion billowed up around him. Thankfully, none of the boats were that close to shore.
It was hard to keep track of things between the darkness, the flashing lights, the fire and the sand, but Firecracker veered towards the pier, chasing a shark or something. The pier from which they launch the fireworks. We all realized this at pretty much the same time. My response was on the vulgar end of the spectrum, though nobody seemed to hear it since we were all running as fast as we could over the sand, and didn't stop once we hit the boardwalk. I don't even know where the flying sharks went, because I was setting a new landspeed record.
The explosion was immense. No. There aren't words immense enough to describe what it was. It was ten minutes of fireworks, an entire pier packed full of explosives, rolled into one awful moment. It didn't make a sound, any more than a tidal wave makes things wet. It slammed into me, and I felt it in my rib cage, not my ears. Even as far as I was from the pier, I lost contact with the ground. The next thing I know, I was watching a paramedic mouth words at me as she attacked my eyes with a flashlight. Nothing's broken. Just a little shock and some scrapes and bruises. They don't hurt yet. A little blood came out of my ears, but I'm wearing my new earrings and the hearing is back in one ear, mostly. All fine.
My parents are pissed, but also feeling way guilty, since they lost track of their offspring in the crowd, and I've got just enough bruises to play it up for sympathy. I teared up through their lecture, not because anything they said got through to me. I don't know why. The whole evening, I guess. I've barely spoken a word to them, but I'm spilling my guts now and I don't know why I'm crying again.
Stupid Firecracker.