Prelude
The melody of autumn has finally emerged from its slumber as I gaze across the busy streets of central Houston. Yellows and reds fill the trees as their lifeless leaves fumble to the ground, surrendering to the arise of the new season. Sweaters, boots, scarves and hats are seen on every passerby as clouds of smoke puff from their breaths. People are redying themselves for the festivities ahead. I myself am giddy with excitement as I remember previous holidays that have taken my breath away with all of the wonderful lights and feasts. Friends and family from all walks of my parents lives will soon be coming to our house to celebrate another year ended. Yet, as the child I am, I was only looking forward to the bundles of surprises I would soon find under our familys christmas tree labeled "Ellena".
Mother looked down at me as I walked hand in hand with her down the busy sidewalk. She smiled, "Ellena, what do you say we get some ice cream after this last errand? We have been busy all day and you have been a very patient girl. How about it? I think you deserve it for your good behavior!"
"Oh, yes maam!," I exclaimed, cheery at the thought of my mothers' favorite icecream shop on the way back to the car. "Thank-you Mother!" I yiped and picked up my pace a little, encouraging mother to do the same.
Today was Friday, one of the few days that my mother wasnt usually working. On days like these, she always tried her best to finish whatever chores and errands she could think of while she was working throughout the week. Her off days were mostly busy, but she tried her best to spend as much of it with me as possible. Even if it meant for me to tag along as she paid various bills or visit old friends that lived on the way. She always apologized prior to such ventures with me, but I would always end up enjoying myself regardless of what kind of errand she was running. She made everything she did feel like an adventure.
In events where a child is away from the parents, one could imagine the child festering scorn or remorse to a degree within themselves towards thier parents. But it wasnt so with me. I knew my mother wasnt trying to be mean to me, instead I knew the importance of my mothers' occupation. She saves lives. Mother was an intensive care nurse in a well established hospital close to our house. She loved her patients as if they were her own flesh and blood. There are many days when she would come home and victoriously say, "Enjoy life while you have it my dear! Today, another precious soul was saved from death!" But there would also be the few days when she would come home late and sorrowful. On days like these she would only tell me, "Enjoy life while you have it my dear."
Mother was stronger on these days then all the others because she refused to stay remorseful. As soon as the next day of work came around, she would leave with more vigor and animation then previously. She resonated a determination that wants to go farther in order for such event to never happen again. She was my hero.
"What is the last errand Mother?" I asked. Mother simply said, "The bank. I need to cash a check that came in the mail."
We soon arrived at the entrance of a very large building. I looked up towards the sky to behold a seemingly innumerable amount of floors. The shiny glass walls shimmering in the reflection of the sun.
Entering the building, there were many people dressed in expensive suits and dresses. An air of sofistication filled this place. Mother and I waited in line behind a few other customers as we watched the bustle of the streets outside the glass walls. Holding close to my mother, I directed my gaze towards a tall stranger dressed in dark brown. He eased in the line behind us, awaiting the next teller. Somehow, I felt nervous that such an imposingly tall and dark figure was behind my mother and I. Stealing a glance behind me, I saw him reaching into his coat. The outline of an object was barely visible where his hand had went. Catching my eye, he looked towards me and replaced his hand at his side once more and smiled. It was a nervous smile.
Clenching my mothers coat and hand, I stepped forward with mother as a customer was accepted at a tellers window. Mother noticed my unspoken disturbance and looked to me, "Whats wrong dear?"
But before I could explain, two loud bangs echoed within the vast walls of the bank. My mother ducked down out of reflex, tugging me into her chest and taking me down with her. The man behind us, taking swift strides towards a tellers window, yells for everyone to freeze and to put their hands in the air. With my face still looking at my mother, she slowly begins lifting her hands. I peek over her shoulder and watch as others, with fear on their faces, do the same.
The man then turns to the teller and commands her to give him all the money that she had. My heart started beating fast as I looked at mothers face. She was scared. I then followed her gaze. She wasnt looking at the man with the gun, but to the customer in line ahead of us. He was fumbling in his pockets looking for what i thought was his phone. To my horror, he drew out a small gun. Did the guy think he was going to shoot that man robbing the bank? The woman beside the man in line yelped when she saw the weapon which alarmed the man robbing the bank. Instantly, another bang rang through my ears. This time I covered them and pressed my face to Mother.
"I told everyone to freeze! If anyone decides to move again, their going to get the same!" the robber hysterically cried, shooting another round into the ceiling. The robber then turned to the next teller and demands more money. I begin to cry, but I felt a shift in mothers clothing. I look up and I see her take her scarf from her neck. She looks down to me and hugs me close. Frozen, I watch as she inches closer to the shot man. 'Mother! What are you doing?! That man is dead! Dead! Theres no hope for him!' my mind screamed as she kneels down slowly next to the man. I wanted to scream, yell, shout for mother to come back to my side but I was motionless, afraid, a coward. She presses her scarf on the wound and checks for any signs of life. But the movements she made were noticed by the robber, who spins around and yells in disgust, "You wretch! I told you not to move!" And before I could feel my next heart beat pounding within me, my body shook with the resonation of the gun firing at my mother. It was a perfect shot. I watched as her body fell backwards, her head lolling on the ground and then facing my direction. Her expressionless face will haunt me for the rest of my life; my mother in a pool of her own blood, shot between her open, lifeless eyes.