Rise

This is a stream of consciousness writing-a writing style that depicts a stream of thoughts going through a character's head.

Shaking shake shaken. Ugh why wont they let me out I didn’t see it I didnt see it I dont want to know I wont cause any trouble! I hate this little room dont lock me up dont kill me. I promise Ill be good I wont say anything please. The door wont budge-let me out!

Give up they wont come. Sitting sit seated.

Only two splotches only two bruises. Perfect fingerprints. The finger he had been pointing, pointing at something shaking his hand at something, the person. Then there was a gun. Wasnt it something more innocent? No no it was a gun. He was shaking it at the person, the person wearing grey. There was a gun. Creeping creep crept. Danger be careful 911 where is my phone it’s always gone when I needed it where is my phone? Keep low. Good calm down now. Theres something shiny in his hand. Why do they keep talking?

Thunder. Just one bolt of lightning. Just one rumble.

Why did that man try to run you cant outrun a bullet no one can outrun a bullet,

a bullet is a bullet and a sprint just cant best it its a bullet its a bullet! He sank so slowly fell to his grave on the pavement. Dont scream dont cry keep breathing keep going because he cant.

What was that murderer doing? There was someone else with him. He must be a friend there were no guns out this time. They were talking again. Talking! How could he do anything after what he just did?

Oh my God help me he was looking at me he was looking at me like he can see me he can see me how can that murderer see me? He was coming.

They were both running towards me.

Run! Now! Move!

God help me God help me why didnt my legs move faster, why did they feel so sluggish? I cant outrun a bullet! I cant outrun him. Is this a punishment for something?

His weight was crushing me what had he eaten for dinner? Did he lift weights or something what could possibly make him seem so heavy when he wasn’t that large? It would be nice if I could squirm but I was immobile, paralyzed. Those poor people in straightjackets.

Was I the crazy one?

Why couldnt I remember? Had he knocked me out? Drugged me?

Only two splotches. The purple indentations of where he had wrestled me, one on each wrist, like corresponding tattoos. Droplets of salt water were trickling down my arms. Stop crying. Whenever I cried before Terry was there to make me laugh.

Grabbing grab grabbed. The card is still here still in my pocket in my grasp. It was warm warmer than my cold hands.

My face was confused. Thats what you get when DMV people dont tell you when the picture was going to be taken.

Terry had laughed at the picture. He had made me blush indignantly.

I loved rolling the windows down and letting my hair whisk around me as I drove. Terry had been dancing to the radio in the passenger seat but then he was just shaking with laughter at it.

“I suppose you could do better?”

“Sure, I wouldnt mind taking photos of you.”

Winking at me he took his phone out and began snapping silly pictures of me, I was the one laughing then.

He always made me laugh but the best part was when I made him laugh. The games of pictionary that had my drawing of a tree looking more like a person going through a bad hair day with Terry teasing me about it for the next three days his sandy hair shaking as he laughed but helped me at the same time in my moments of distress the first time I went ice skating.

I saw him before he saw me his sandy hair and broad features distracting. I kept staring at him as I walked and tripped over my backpack lying on the floor, landing at his feet. I was falling before I realized what happened. Blood was soaked up by my cheeks my face turning pink, as if  compromising between the red of mortification and the white of dread-embarrassing how embarrassing! I froze, humiliated by my clumsiness and his laugh that wasnt stopping. He was so horrible! Then he extended his hand and relief came like a torrent into my veins. Should I laugh at the situation or thank him? Both. Even though he was laughing at me I loved the sound of his laughter. Afterwards there was no ignoring each other. Why would we?

There was a beat a steady thump. Would I ever see him again? One moment and my life is done. I shouldnt have been near that clearing. It was too quiet I never should have walked near it they’re going to kill me now. If I had a way of talking to Terry, a way to see him I would say. . .I don’t know.

What is that noise? It sounds like a seesaw, a steady consistent repetition of gentle hammer blows.

Footsteps. He was coming. He was coming.

I could use that tiny side table beside the grimy blue mattress over there. Maybe I could hit him with it.

Hmm, this is light it should do okay though. This wall is caked with dust its disgusting I hope he doesnt open the door too far or he will wap me right in the face.

The footsteps stopped is the lock clicking? Get ready the door is coming open! Swinging swing swung-caught. What? How could he know? How could he block my swing before it hit him? How could he rip it from my grasp so easily? How could he shove me away with his arm and draw his gun so quickly?

“Back up!” His voice is menacing so guarded and suspicious. That gun could kill me-I cant outrun a bullet! The bullet would hit me in the forehead above my left eye if I so much as breathed too deeply. “What did you see?” So demanding so angry.

“When?” the word was quiet and confused perfect for pleading innocence.

“In the street earlier.”

Earlier. Maybe I had only be here a few hours.

“Nothing peculiar I was just walking.” Stop staring at me stop being creepy stop it!

“Your hands are knotted and you aren’t looking me in the eye. Tell me the truth!”

There were other reasons Im not looking him in the eye. This conversation is so ludicrous. Like he really cared about “the truth”.

“You saw it and you were going to blab about it you are trouble. Who were you going to tell?”

Useless to lie pointless. “It doesn’t matter I wont tell now!”

“You were going to tell Jackie werent you?”

What is he talking about? Jackie Chan?

“You were going to have me killed.”

Is he delusional? “You’re the only one here whos trying to kill someone. I have no idea what you are talking about. I had a newspaper deliver named Jack last year but that’s pretty much it!”

He looks dubious he wont believe anything I say. But. . .is he confused too? “Pull the back of your shirt down.”

Is he trying to provoke me? “Excuse you?”

He rolled his eyes and lunged at me.

What is wrong with this guy why wont he leave me alone get off me get off me! His fingers like creepy spiders pulling on the cloth along the back of my neck. His fingerprints.

Silence.

“You. . .you don’t have their tattoo on your back.” He is upset. Why is he agitated? He released me gently took a step back and began lowering his gun. “But-but why were you there when it happened? Who are you?”

The woods were where I should be. The smell of moss and chlorophyll of earth and flower perfume. It was where I belonged where I felt at ease. That was where I stayed. I snuck out every night and they still never caught me never noticed. I felt like a wood nymph mysterious and powerful. I would stay for hours in the woods each night I couldnt sleep anyway. Sitting by the stream was like listening to windchimes, walking was like invigorating my body, wandering alone was like wearing freedom as a cloak, hearing the night animals was like hearing my friends chattering excitedly. Just being there made me feel like I was lost in time.

They were strangers in my domain. I was curious. Curiosity caused the abduction of the cat. I followed them. Maybe it was partly my fault. I was so stupid. My childish reverie had been shattered when I glimpsed that horrid gun.  

“I told you. I was just walking.” My short response doesnt matter its not his business. “I still dont understand what you are talking about.”

His badge was shiny and reflected even the faintest shimmer of light. “Im a police officer. The man I-the man I shot was a member of a gang operating in San Francisco. Each member receives a tattoo of a small chain to symbolize their dedication and bond to the group. I thought you were one of them because you were spying on us. I didnt want you making a mess and telling them. I didnt want to shoot him but he tried to get away and threatened my partner.”

“So you didn’t check for this gang tattoo before you and your buddy knocked me out, abducted me, and locked me in a room?”

“I just assumed. . .”

Ive gone through all this because he “thought” I was working for criminals! He deserves a reproachful glare. “Well maybe next time you “assume” try not to kidnap people! Just a thought.” He was afraid of me now, like my anger might be more dangerous than his gun. I could outrun a bullet! I should storm out of this room right now he couldnt stop me!

“Wait!”

I shied away from his hand as he tried to grab my arm. He swiftly retracted his hand and looked away. “I’m sorry. I didnt mean to.”  

At least he seems to regret what happened.

He held out his hand slowly compassionately.

My nerves are still completely freaking out but his touch is soft his touch is encouraging. My life has been changed enough in the past day to have me in a mental ward. How is it possible that your entire life can be altered in just one event just one action just one instant? Is my life any better after this monstrosity of a day? Going from normal person to trapped then free again, it ruins confidence in having a controlled orderly life, everything can change-you have little power control or say in outcome.

My pigtails snapped back inside the car as a car whizzed by inches from my head so close so dangerously dangerously close. “I don’t like cars Mommy! What stops them from hitting us?”

Many things in the universe just barely escape catastrophe. The world is a web of overlapping paths. Four inches to the right and it would have been a messy car crash cross the street two seconds late and someone can end up as a new paint color for a taxicab duck a millisecond too slowly in a baseball game and a person’s face can develope a crater the size of a computer mouse drive one foot more towards the edge of the mountain road and people can discover if they are truly afraid of heights or not accidentally send ‘I love u’ to the wrong person and one can end up in an unpleasant love triangle. Happen to cross the path of three men in the woods and wind up kidnapped. One two three destruction! The only thing keeping people from disaster is chance and intelligence, I must have been missing the latter. Now my life is unstable. I will never get the gunshot out of my ears I will never get the bruises off my skin I will never be able to go into those woods again I will never be able to peel the picture of him slumping towards the ground-never never never. I can never go back. I can never erase the memories the memories echoing in my head like a shattering scream.

But I can put it all back together and shove those memories into a recess in my mind.

“Its going to be just fine.”

Because he held out his hand to me, I will get up.

Rising rise rose.

Author's Note

Please note that in stream of consciousness writing many grammar mistakes are intentional (I am not really that bad at including commas and apostrophes).