May 17, 2019 - 11:59 PM

Eury Morrissey

I stormed out of the bar, fidgeting with my bag, but the oxygen tank but it kept digging into my spine. I tried not to break out into a sprint once I stepped onto the gravel lot of O'Brian's, but I couldn't help it, especially with the way that I was feeling. The sprint, however, was cut short on account of my less than whole set of lungs. I slowed back down to my usual pace. A late spring breeze came in from the river, running along the other side of main street from where I was walking. The night's breeze in Sentinel wasn't usually sharp but tonight it felt like it could cut my skin if I wasn't running so hot. Even though it was nearing summertime, the wind felt distinctly cooler. Maybe it was just a quirk of this trash heap, or probably the alcohol I drank. That, or because I was still damp with sweat from the dancing, mine and my partner's. I would've thought after getting pulled off the dancefloor by Davis, I would've dried off a bit by now.

What the hell was Davis doing in there, anyway?

I mean, sure, he lived in Sentinel still. And yeah, O'Brian's was the only bar in town. So I guess it made sense that I'd run into him. But why the hell did he have to come out tonight? I could feel myself being unreasonable, but the tequila—I could still taste on my breath—helped me to ignore that stupid opinion just a little bit longer. I kicked at the ground, scuffing the pavement with my boot.

What were you doing in there?

Almost the same question, but wholly different context—Eury, what are you doing here? Were you planning on getting back together with him?

Together? Wouldn't that require the two of you to be together at some point?

Shut up. Are you planning on trying to get back to whatever the hell it was before you left? Before you got sick? Is that what you are aiming for?

...

Silence, huh? Yeah, thought that would be a stumper. Even my own body—my own mind—didn't have a clue what I was doing in there. After the embarrassment of reopening that same old scar, all I wanted to do was get back to Alaska's and sleep off the haze of the tequila.

I stopped for a second, pulled my bag in front of me, and took out my iPod and headphones. It was going to be a long fifteen minutes if I didn't drown out all these conflicting thoughts. I slipped my headphones on and within my next breath the haunting melodic strings of Brahms' 3rd symphony drowned out the sound of my strained breathing.

In the dull yellow street-light, I felt nearly blind as my eyes struggled to adjust to the low light. That didn't stop me from confidently storming away from O'Brian's, so why would I let it stop me now that I was halfway back to Alaska's place already. I turned up the first sloping road, already halfway through my playlist, and to Alaska's house.

Of course, every single place in Sentinel was uphill both ways, perfect for an athletic phenom, like myself.

As my breathing picked up, I felt a sharp pang of cold burst in my chest. Reaching into my pocket I turned up the volume, blasting Brahm's just loud enough to almost drown out the sound of my panting.

A sharp scream pierced through the high shrieks of the flutes. I turned around in time to see a man run into the glow of the streetlight at the bottom of the hill behind me. Running toward O'Brian's. He stumbled over his own feet as he crossed the intersection. He couldn't have been further than a hundred feet away, but under the dull orange streetlight, I couldn't make anything else out.

No wonder eyewitnesses are so unreliable.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

Come on, Eury. That wasn't nearly loud enough and you know it.

I was about to call out to him again when another person burst into the light, only a few feet behind the first man and quickly gaining on him. "What's going..." As I began to speak, the man was tackled out of the light. "Whoa! What the fuck are you doing!" I shouted above the crashing symphony blaring in my ears.

Of course, something fucked-up like this was happening my first night back here. Of course!

I wheeled around and began to march back down the hill, my bag and the oxygen tank inside hitting me in the lower back as I went. I ripped my headphones off and for the first time, I could hear the fight. For a fight between two people, it sounded more like someone was getting attacked by a dog.

Or a pack of them.

What are you doing? What do you plan on doing, huh? Bash 'em with your oxygen tank or something? Hmm, little miss cancer patient?

Cancer survivor, I corrected my inner-bitch.

It wasn't the thought I wanted to hear but I couldn't help but agree, at least a little. Regardless, I knew something was happening and I was the only one around here that could do something. So I had to.

"Hey, assholes! You'd better stop 'cause I've got the cops on the phone already!" A lie, but that didn't stop me from shouting.

Why was it a lie? What the hell are you doing Eury, get your shit together! Call someone!

I stopped for a second mid righteous march toward the gnashing sounds of the fight and pulled out my phone.

Walk away, you idiot! Call the cops and walk away.

I couldn't live with myself if I just ran away from this. It was midnight, everyone else was asleep. I knew that if I didn't do anything, no one would.

I had stopped directly beneath a streetlight about halfway down the hill from the attack and was probably standing out like a sore thumb. As I pulled up the phone app, I stepped into the darkness and onto someone's mushy lawn.

9-1-1. Five rings, no answer. Did the cops have a voicemail?

Another scream echoed off the buildings.

Oh, Jesus Christ, what are you doing right now Eury?

9-1-1. Another five rings. Again, no answer.

More screams reverberated off the buildings, shaking my bones, stifling my breath. I called 9-1-1 one more time and stuffed the phone into my pocket. Hopefully, they'd be able to trace the call or something if they ever decided to answer. I took three heavy steps down the hill toward the intersection and the last spot that I had seen the man and his attacker, and then promptly stopped in my tracks.

This is just a nightmare. The tequila playing tricks on my mind. Isn't it?

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I barely made out the shape of another person climbing up and over the bank of the river. Within two seconds I counted three more people sprinting across the intersection, before they all disappeared back into the dark in the direction of the other two.

Run.

I pulled my phone back out of my pocket again, just as another nearly melodic scream pierced the night.

Run.

I held the ringing phone against my ear as I took my first step back up the hill.

Run.

The symphony blaring from my loose headphones came to a crescendo as I tried my best to run away.

Don't stop.

May 17, 2019 - 12:06 PM