Three flashes. All in a row.
Flash one.
Flash two.
Flash three.
My eyes were closed, but I could still see the spots of light through my eyelids. I was dazed and disoriented, aching and confused. Three more flashes and three clicks to follow.
Flash four.
Flash five.
Flash six.
Click! Click! Click!
On the third, my eyes snapped open. Cameramen were standing over me, but when I looked up at them, they froze. They stood on the Ave., frightened and scared. Someone pushed through the crowd; the police captain, Captain Conwell. He watched as I lifted my head from the concrete sidewalk. There were no questions of idiocy, asking if I was okay. Only four words were uttered by the Captain. "You should be dead . . ."
Sheer confusion spread across my face. Why should I be dead when I felt so alive?
"Florence, you should be-"
I cut him off. "I should be what?" I whispered, sitting up quickly. Pain ripped through my chest, and I let out a howl of pain. My hands were at my chest instantly, touching a sticky, warm wetness. I could now smell the iron. I was bleeding . . . from right beneath my heart. As if on cue, my vision started to swirl. Captain Conwell was yelling something about an ambulance, but I had no strength to make out the words. I was dying.
I should have been dead.
Voices were yelling around me. It was as if nobody knew what to do. It was so simple, though. Get an ambulance. Get to the hospital. Don't let the broken girl die on the streets. It's common sense, people.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
My head lolled to the side just as the ambulance doors opened. Thank God. The pain would soon be over; through survival or death, I didn't know. I was lifted onto a stretcher, but the paramedics weren't all that careful. It felt like needles were racing through every ounce of my being, like all of Hell was coming loose and attacking me. But I didn't die. I felt all of the pain and saw the blood that should have proved I was dead. But I wasn't.
Into the ambulance I went. I was hooked up to an oxygen tank, not like I needed it; my breathing was only a little labored. Then a paramedic pressured my chest. I cried out, writhing on the stretcher. I wanted to scream at the paramedic to stop, to lighten the pressure at least, but I was in too much pain to try and form the words. The most I could do was scream and hope someone got the memo. I was making it obvious, wasn't I?
What landed me in this situation? A snippet of memory flashed briefly.
Katie was laughing her tinkling, soft laugh. It was super girly, why was she laughing?
I was brought back to reality with hands pinning me to the stretcher. They were trying to restrain me; to keep me from moving. I could hear the paramedics telling me to stay awake. Their voices were urgent, persuasive, but it wasn't enough. The memories flashed again.
Katie was still laughing, but fit the giggles was already starting to recede by now. I, on the other hand, had been moping about an insanely cute guy in school who had just started dating the captain of the dance team. She thought it was funny how I was bringing it back up. Again.
"Stay awake kid!" the paramedic called, forcing my eyes to snap open.
I looked at him with a pleading expression. "But I can't . . ." I whispered. "I just want to go back to Katie. I just want to dream."
"Please, kid!" he demanded just as his partner put more pressure on the open wound on my chest. With that final wave of pain, I let myself slip back into my memories, back into today's events.
"There's no point. He's got his eyes set on Ms. Glossy-Lips. Besides, he's way out of our league, Renny," Katie explained. Renny. My nickname. Katie had given it to me when we were little. Summers ago. The name had stuck, though.
"I know. I know," I muttered reluctantly, rolling my eyes. "But what if there was any chance at all-"
She cut me off. "There's no way. We're too . . . average."
"You're not. I am," I corrected. Katie was perfect. She had everyone chasing after her. She had sleek dirty-blonde hair and vibrant hazel eyes. She was literally acne free and was set at a good height. To top that, she was track and field games extraordinaire. The perfect dream of any high school boy. I, on the other hand, had mousy brown hair and pale blue-grey eyes, with rounded, freckle-speckled cheeks. There was nothing dazzling about that. I was short, too. Problems in school were nonexistent, especially in english. The only sport I could play was competitive swimming. That was it. Just average. "You've got half the football team after you, Kates. You're far from ordinary"
She rolled her eyes. "Unlikely. I doubt-" Katie stopped in mid sentence. We both heard something. It sounded like gunshots. Three rang out.
Shot one.
Shot two.
Shot three.
Without thinking, I ran in the direction of the sounds. I turned onto the Ave. and stopped dead in my tracks. A lone gunman stood in the center of the street. A once busy tourist attraction became a ghost town. The only people who were there were me, the gunman, and a businessman, kneeling at point blank. I stepped forward without thinking, and called out, "Hey! Leave him alone!"
The gunman turned towards me, the barrel of his gun following his eyes. "Don't come any closer or I'll kill ya' both!" I knew he was serious. His wild, crazed eyes and the fact that I could see his expression from behind the black ski mask he wore made it more conclusive. I was on thin ice and I had to be careful. Very careful. One wrong move could cost me my head.
"I don't plan to. Just . . . let's talk this through," I called, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Just put the gun away."
I didn't think it'd work, but the guy slowly lowered his gun. I started to walk forward, saying, "Good. Now calm down and tell me what's wrong, okay?" So far so good. He didn't raise his gun again. The businessman on the ground quickly ran away, not caring what happened. Jerk. I swallowed and stepped closer. There was a gap of about ten feet between me and the gunman now. I was dangerously close, but I had to act as though I wanted to help, like I meant no harm. And I didn't. I was at the disadvantage. I had to be on my guard.
"Stop right there," the gunman commanded. "Give me your bag, and we can both be on our way. You don't want to get blood on your pretty dress there, do you?"
Three things about this guy were clear to me. One, he was a lunatic. Two, he was a thief. Three, he was a creep. "No," I said simply. Katie started calling my name frantically and he scowled. He darted towards me, pulling at my bag. I aimed to kick him where it counts, but before I could, three shots were fired.
Shot one.
Shot two.
Shot three.
I collapsed to the ground. I heard the slapping of the soles gunman's shoes on the pavement and Katie's shrill scream of terror. Three shots were fired, and all three entered straight through my heart.
A white room and a sterile smell. So familiar yet unfamiliar. I slitted my eyelids, trying to get a look of my surrounding. A whole bunch of medical equipment surrounded me. A hospital. That had to mean I was alive and not somewhere, six feet under.
My body was numb. The doctors probably had me racked up on painkillers. I lifted my rubberlike arm and hit the nurse button. Within a minute, a preppy nurse was at my bedside, trying to make sure I was comfortable. "How are you feeling dear? Your medication has probably made you numb, but we had to give you so much. You were on the brink of dying, but the doctor saved you, he did . . ." I let the nurse keep babbling and lay back my head into the pillows. It seemed like an hour had gone by when she finally shut up.
"H-how long was I out?" I asked, softly.
"A little over a month," the nurse replied casually, as if it were some everyday thing. I swallowed. A month was a long time to be out cold; a long time without family and friends. A long time out of my school year. A long time away from the swimming pool, and I was gaining the extra pounds. "The scary thing is that you were dead one second and alive the next. Nobody had even tried to revive you." I looked at the nurse as if she was crazy. She had to be. There was no way I could die and come back to life with no help. It was impossible.
"Where are my parents and Katie?"
"Outside. They were by your bed everyday, oh yes. Very good friends and family you have there. You even had a few young gentlemen come in and leave you flowers. They're right there. Have a look deary."
I turned my head towards the window, seeing three or four vases of flowers. Blue and pink forget-me-nots in perfect bloom; my favorite. I smiled vaguely and looked over at the nurse. "Can you send my parents and Katie in?"
"You sure you're up for it, dear?" she asked. I nodded and lay my head back again. The nurse walked out and a few minutes later, in came my parents and Katie. The looks on their faces were priceless; full smiles spread across their lips. My mom came to me first. I reached out to hug her, ignoring the slight pain I felt in my chest.
"Hey Mom," I whispered. My eyes stung and I let a few tears roll down my cheeks. When I pulled away from her, my mom had a few streaks to match. Like mother, like daughter. My dad put a hand on my shoulder after my mom stepped back.
"How're you feeling, kiddo?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer. He pulled me into a tight hug. "We missed you . . ."
Katie came to me next. "Renny, promise me something?" I nodded at her words. "Never do something that stupid ever again." I started to laugh and cry at the same time. It felt so good. After all the pain I felt . . . After all of the unconsciousness, I was finally sure that I was awake. I was finally sure that I was alive. But one thing had to be answered. What happened to me. There was only one person who could answer my question . . .
And that was Katie.
She was there when I got shot. She was probably the one to call the police and ambulance, too. She had to know. She just had to. I looked at her with a questioning glance, hoping she knew what I was getting at, hoping she knew what I wanted her to. After a few hours of catching up with my parents and Katie on anything that I might have missed, I said, "Mom, Dad? Why don't you guys go get some food and sleep. You look exhausted. I'll be fine, okay?" I encouraged.
"You sure, Florence?" Mom asked.
I nodded. "Positive. Katie can keep me company for a bit." Katie looked as though she might protest, but she paused as soon as I shot her a secretive glance. My parents nodded in agreement and left the room without further protest. I sat up and crossed my arms. "What happened to me, Kates?"
"What do you mean? You got shot and survived. . ." she whispered.
"No. I'm supposed to be dead. What happened?" I asked.
"You were shot . . ." she started. "The guy who shot you ran with your purse. I got one look at you before I called the ambulance. He got you badly, and I didn't know what to do to help. They told me to put pressure on your chest, so I did. I did this until the police and the ambulance showed up. By the time the they got there and tried to do anything to help, you were already gone.
"I was devastated and so were your parents. When they found out, that is. Well, the two officers who were there brought me to the station to try and calm me down. After I was somewhat calm, they started to question me. They asked me what we were doing on the Ave. They asked me what I saw. They asked me if I knew the guy, if I knew what he looked like. I answered them all honestly. We were shopping and heard some gunshots. You ran towards the sound. I saw the guy shoot you. I didn't know who he was or what exactly he looked like because he wore a mask.
"They were halfway through questioning when they got the call, the call confirming you were alive. They were baffled and confused, unsure if the paramedics made some crazy mistake. They knew you were dying, though. You were rushed to the hospital and the officers drove me there. I met your parents in the ER waiting room. We weren't sure if you were going to make it. The doctors had told us you were shot straight through the heart. It was impossible for you to be alive. We were so confused and happy at the same time. But one question hasn't been answered yet. How are you alive?"
I looked at Katie, baffled. "How am I supposed to know when I'm asking you the question myself, Kates? I've been unconscious for a month."
"Something crazy is going on, Renny, and you know it. No matter how glad I am for you to be alive, it's just not possible."
I sat in silence. Being shot straight through the heart, dying, then coming back to life just doesn't happen. It's doesn't really seem possible, but I had done it. What the hell was going on? Why was I still here, alive?
