26. Emma
It was strange how the seasons changed without avail. How life seemed to move on when I felt frozen in time. The hot summer nights turned to cooler fall evenings as the sun set earlier, the days were shorter, and the nights were longer.
And I was still there on the sidewalk crying in Chase’s grip.
I was frozen there, living in delusion. Everyone moved on, like the pages of a book that never ended, it kept going. Time went on for everyone except me. I passed the sidewalk of our last conversation and could still see us there arguing, screaming and fighting while I cried. It was as if I was haunting that corner of campus, unable to move on, my body going along with time, but my vesselless soul still trapped in that moment.
I could still feel gravity holding me in that moment, the moment that my fantasy of passionate rendezvous shattered, collapsing in a mess of violence right in front of me. Nothing was how it was supposed to be. Chase and I were supposed to be together, he was my person, I could still see the look on his face as he begged me not to leave him.
And I still did.
The sky was darkening into shades of purple as the day turned to night. I felt like a phantom of my original self sitting in the grass at Point State Park. Right where we had our first official date.
Couples and families surrounded me, just like that day, and I sat and stared out at the point where the three rivers met. The Fort Pitt bridge was packed with evening traffic, some heading out of the city, others coming back home to it. Then me, sitting here after work getting lost in the happiest memories I ever had in all my life.
Chase had left earlier in the week for the conference he was attending, the one that officially brought us together. He wouldn”t be back for a week. I knew he was thinking of me, but something held me back from accepting his advances, like if I did that, I”d be condoning all of the things he’d done. But God I wanted to.
My mind was plagued with the memories of his gentle touch when we went on lunch dates, of his firm grip on my throat when he was thrusting into me, the way he kissed me when we finished. Those images would splinter in the ugly truths of all the people he killed because of me. Dr. Murdock, Nate, the poor soul who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, all because of me. And all for what? I didn’t even end up with Chase.
I lugged my heavy body up off the ground. It was Friday evening and I had a date with a new romance novel that just came out. I had a couple errands to run before going home. I planned to walk to the bank, to withdraw the minuscule amount of money I did have to go grocery shopping, which pretty much meant getting cereal, milk, and some canned goods. Life was a struggle to exist, Chase had been sending me gifts and money but who knew how long that would last before he moved on, disposing of me. Making ends meet was harder than I remembered it being, I was one sick day away from my phone getting shut off.
The night cascaded around me as I made my way down fifth avenue to the bank that stood tall in the heart of the city, tightening my cardigan around my body as a fall breeze whipped around me. The bank would close in about fifteen minutes, which was enough time for me to get in and get out. I rounded the corner to the brightly lit sky rise. The whirlwind from the revolving doors blew my hair in wild tendrils around my face.
A blonde woman with red lipstick greeted me behind the counter as she chatted with her coworkers. The intricately designed vault that no doubt was only some of the money they stored here, towered behind them looking prestigious. The logo embedded into the metal made it look more decorative. I made my way to the ATM that was on the other side of the room. A few people were being helped and a couple waited in line for last minute transactions preparing for the weekend.
I stuck my card in the machine and waited patiently entering the information. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as the ATM screen spun in a circle, thinking about the information I just plugged in.
Declined.
Fabulous.
I sighed starting over entering less this time. Being broke sucked.
Gooseflesh rippled up my arm, I glanced around taking in the rest of the room over my shoulder. A few more customers piled in, and in a last minute haste, two people stood behind me waiting to use the ATM.
Shit. The transaction declined notification appeared again on the screen.
“You can go ahead,” I motioned to the person behind me as I pulled up my bank app, “I’m sorry.” I said, moving out of the way as they took my place.
Scrolling through my transactions to see what the hell was going on, I sensed it before I saw it. The niggling feeling that something bad was about to go down.
“Everyone get on the fucking ground,” a gruff voice shouted. My eyes snapped to the cause of the scene to see three men in typical ski masks, black sweaters, and pants. Every part of their skin covered save for the patch of their eyes visible. My phone fell to the floor as tremors took over my body.
This was really fucking happening.
Everyone hit the floor, but I couldn’t make my body move. My eyes zeroed in on the shiny black barrel that held me in place as it was pointed at me, “I said get on the ground bitch, are you deaf or have a death wish?” The dark eyes pierced into mine as my knees hit the concrete floor with a crack.
Panic erupted in the room as everyone ducked for cover. Bullets started flying. The scream of the bullets whizzing through the air, the undertone of the boom of the gun thundered in the room deafening me. The warm splashes of blood splattered across my face as the person who had taken my place at the ATM fell to the ground in a heap of blood. I flicked my eyes towards the flesh, no longer able to recognize the facial features. Bile rose in my throat as my sight darted back to the shooter in front of me.
“Fucking idiot,” it was all I could do to read his lips. The sound of the gunshots still exploded in my eardrums, while he turned towards the tellers behind the desk. One of the men in black guarded the door, holding his gun out towards the lobby, his body tense as his gaze seared into the room, his arm rigid as he held the weapon out. The other held the other half of the room at gunpoint making good on his threats as he obliterated a woman in front of her partner. The blood and flesh smacked the wall behind them. Inaudible cries invaded my vision.
My ears couldn’t catch up to the sound. The bang of the gunshots flooded my senses, the smell of urine assaulted my nostrils. I dared a glance to the man next to me who had soaked through his jeans. The weight of the situation was settling in. My phone was too far away, I couldn’t move my body even if I wanted to. As I watched the dead stare of another body shot dead across from me, the gaze looked through my soul, no longer seeing.
The sickening sound of another body falling, the heavy weight of it ramming into me snapped my neck in the direction it came from. The man next to me, covered in urine and blood, laid lifeless. No face looked back at me, just brain matter and spurting blood making a god awful gushing sound.
I fell from my position on my knees and onto my side at the force of the dead weight, choking on my vomit, my stomach heaved lodging itself in my esophagus. This was it. This was where I was going to die.
Sound slammed back into me, my ears still rang with the buzzing sound as bullets passed my ears narrowly missing my head as one by one the people behind the counter were picked off. Money was being shoved in bags by the one who had shot the men next to me, he shouted orders at his cohorts.
Life was playing out before my eyes in flooding images and flashes, unable to process what was happening in front of me. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re on your deathbed. But for me, that didn’t happen. I only saw the moments that made me feel most alive. The ones that sent a rush of emotion flooding through my body like a tidal wave. The moments in time where life felt too real, too amazing. The times that my body tingled with electricity, sparking with passion as I looked at the person I loved.
The last image I had was of Chase, him touching me, his voice as he called me the nickname I”d come to love. I no longer saw him as an embodiment of all the wrongs he committed, but the rights.
The right way he touched me, the way that in his own mind, he was keeping me safe from anything that threatened harm to me. I spent so much time being afraid and upset, but in that moment, I would’ve given anything for him to come to my rescue. To take down the man who was standing in front of me shouting orders wordlessly that I couldn”t understand.
A reverie of memories roared through my head louder than his voice could reach.
Chase.