Between The Squiggles

I didn’t think I’d write tonight, it’s already past my usual time but why not.

Day 11 of writing-something-random-just-to-see-if-I-can-do-it-without-getting-self-conscious 

The fire fucking alarms kept going off the entire day. For no reason at all. Fucking firefuckingalarms. And here I was who thought it was my mother’s voice that was the most jarring sound to me.

An hour ago, the smoke detector in my room was blinking red – a sign it might start going off again for no reason. I asked my brother-in-law if we should just take it down. He said we shouldn’t touch it yet; tinkering with it might wake my sister. I mentioned it in the family group chat anyway, just so my sister would see it in the morning before heading off to work.

But somehow, she saw the message right then, got up, came to my room, and started inspecting the alarm. We ended up removing the smoke detector after all. But then came the tirade – why didn’t we just do it earlier? Why did she have to be the one to wake up?

It didn’t seem to matter that we had planned to deal with it, or that we left it alone specifically so she wouldn’t be disturbed. None of that registered in the moment. And I couldn’t even bring it up because I realized we had just taken the alarm down but it was still going off. Just this time, it had my sister’s voice. And it sounded exactly like our mother.

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This isn’t meant to put my sister down or to be sarcastic – only to reflect on how certain vocal tones, especially sharp or heightened ones, and elevated volumes can trigger a strong sensory or emotional response in some people, often tied to memories or dynamics shaped in childhood.