Gun Point

Like a broken record, that terrible night at 7-Eleven plays in her head

Kelly stood in the shower. The water saturated her shoulder-length blond hair, ran down her back, and darted across her shoulder blades in sheets, spilling between her toes and around the ceramic ground of the tube underneath her feet. The hot water also beat against her upper chest, and droplets slid off her fingers. She lost herself in there, mentally blocking out the sound of the water and the unreal, terrifying event that unraveled her just hours before. The shower had a rhythm to it -- one of drumming beats, like rain, the put-put of the water, became music to her ears, and it was an hour before she emerged from the shower. When she did, her skin had gone pink and wrinkled. A blanket of steam covered the bathroom mirrors. Her reflection appeared fuzzy and she leaned over, sliding her hand across the mirror in a wide arch. Inside the arch her soft hazel eyes stared back. Her hair, still west, clung to her oval face. She was 20 but she thought she looked forty years older.
Kelly knew she couldn't be in the bathroom forever. Her roommate certainly wouldn't appreciate it. Yet she liked the tranquility of the shower. But no. She’d have to get into her pajamas at some point.  She reached for the towel on top of the toilet seat and wrapped herself in it.
She opened the door and crisp cool air blew in. What a difference from the humid-filled bathroom. Kelly would have to turn on the heat. True, Samantha wouldn't like it but Kelly was cold.
She walked into the hallway, looked at the heat meter, and pushed the "auto" button. There. Now she slowly walked to her room, pulled out some pajamas from her dresser and slowly prepared for bed.
Was she sure she'd get to sleep? Probably not. She could try. The cops told her that sleep would be good -- that they'd be in contact with her. Too bad she didn’t have a boyfriend she could go to. 
Usually Kelly enjoyed the silence, but on this night she couldn't sleep because of it. She turned on the TV, switched off the light and crawled into bed. Lying there, Kelly began replaying the events of that night. When she dozed off she saw the barrel looking straight between her eyes.

She did get some sleep -- not much, but if you count three hours that's good enough. Kelly managed to wake up at 7 a.m. -- her body was getting used to that time, as she had an early class. She got dressed, brushed her hair and teeth, gathered her things and headed for the car. She thought of going to the police and skipping the class, but she chose the class instead.
Kelly had an 8 a.m. sociology class.  Who studies sociology at 8 a.m. in the morning? But here she was. Good thing the professor made it easy. That and her friend, Tanya, shared the class with her. Tanya was already there, just one of four people in the room. Class would begin in10 minutes. And people were still straggling in.
Tanya was black, with a slender face and shoulder-length hair in stylish braids. She was also a reader, always carrying around a novel or one of those Christian devotional books. "Hey girl." she said looking up. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," Kelly said, sitting at the desk next to her.  She took out her book and notebook. She felt like she wasn't there.
"Are you sure," Tanya said, to Kelly's right. "You OK?"
"I’m fine." Kelly said, turning to her. Tanya looked worried. "Hey, are we taking that quiz today?"
"Yeah, I think so," Tanya said. "I read the sixth and seventh chapters. Did you look at them?"
"Yeah."
"Did you work last night?"
"No...yes..." she paused. "I did.... got off early."
Tanya opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something else, but didn't. The professor came in and began engaging the students in some early morning discussion about the material. They didn't have a quiz after all. But Kelly didn’t really hear what he said because she kept thinking about the night before.
How strange, to walk into a 7-Eleven, because you're craving a Slurpee, a favorite treat. How weird to get in line with your Slurpee all while some big man is yelling at the cashier, and when he sees you --
"Kelly?" Tanya interrupted her thoughts. "You going?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Class is over."
"It is?"
"Yeah." Tanya said. Sure enough, students were filing out.  Kelly slid her book and notebook into the backpack.
"Kelly, is something wrong?"
"What? No. I'm fine."
"You seem...out of it."
“I'm fine, really."
"OK..." Tanya looked at her, her face of concern again. "I have to get going -- I start work in an hour. Can you call me later?"
"Yeah sure."
"OK."  She paused. "If you need to talk, just call me."

The gentle sounds of the water soothed her. The water poured over her in comfort, spilling in every direction, washing her skin and jittery feelings away. In these moments she left the scene around her, although she’d return to that night. But when she did, she was someone else. The thoughts played like a DVD in her mind. And when she played the DVD scene she was that “other” person, a reporter and observer holding a notebook and donning a long grey winter overcoat.  Yeah, it was something out-of-place for California, but perfect for an observer. 
Observer-reporter watches the young lady �" herself - laugh as she pulls her car up to the 7-Eleven. It has been a long day at work and Kelly is talking on the phone with a cute guy she met at Starbucks on campus. He's asking her what she's doing. She tells him she's getting a Slurpee, just like when she was a kid. He laughs. Just before she walks up to the door, he cuts the call short, because he's actually at work and his break is over. He wants to call her later and she's ecstatic because he is gorgeous and she hopes they'll start dating. After their good-byes she sticks her iPhone back in her jeans pocket and she proceeds into the convenient store. In one corner the cashier stands behind the register, methodically trying to get it open. In front of him, on the opposite side of the register, stands a big, broad-shouldered Hispanic man with a heavy black Raider's jacket on. Kelly doesn't think any of it as she moves over to the Slurpee machine. She concocts a delicious mix of Coca-cola and Berry Slurpee in a 32-ounce cup. Nice. When she goes to the counter to pay for her order, she notices the Raiders man is still there, his back to her. He is towering over the register, and cussing at the cashier. "Give it to me now! Hurry up!"  Kelly steps closer to see what's going on. The Raiders man suddenly whirls around and that's when she sees the handgun in his right hand. She drops the Slurpee and it hits the ground, splattering Coke-and-berry slushy juice across the floor, the candy racks, and her sandals.


"What's up with you? You've been in a fog lately," mother snapped.
Kelly hadn't told her what happened, and it had already been at least four weeks since that night. In that time she'd talked to the police only three times. They brought her in for a line-up. Unfortunately, none of the men matched the suspect's face. She'd remember him anywhere. He had broad jaw, a thick neck, with slick back hair, and the tattoo on the left side of his neck, and cold, piercing eyes. She wouldn't forget that.  Neither did the 7-Eleven clerk. But that's beside the point.
"You're not on drugs are you? Don't end up like your looser brother." Mom could be so cutting.
"No, I'm not, and he’s not a loser.”
"I know you college students are into that rave drug Entity, or whatever it's called."
"It's Ecstasy and no, I'm not doing that."
“Uh-huh. Sure you're not. How do you know about it?"
"They talk about it all the time, people from anti-drug programs."
"Yeah. Uh-huh."
Mom never believed anything. Maybe it was just as much. Her brother Justin was at one time a drug addict, but even though he'd been sober for seven months and was doing well she still didn't see the best of him. She tended to see the worse in everyone, even Tanya, just because she was black.
Maybe that's why she didn't tell her mother that a Hispanic guy had held her at gunpoint.
"Well, you'd better be doing well in school. Lord knows I pay for it."
Another half-truth. Mom helped pay Kelly’s original tuition, but Kelly actually depended on work and school loans for the rest. Yeah, it was definitely better not to tell her anything.
Sometimes she thought of telling Tanya. She'd seemed to be genuinely concerned about Kelly this last few weeks, although Kelly still didn't get too close to her because of her Christian faith. Not that Kelly didn't believe in God, she did...she supposed. But she just couldn't figure out how Tanya could believe in something so strong that she couldn't see, especially when logic and education seemed to point to the completely opposite.
Mother sighed and walked into the kitchen, Kelly followed after her. Mom was the same height as Kelly, but thicker in the waist, and grayer in the hair. At one time she used to be beautiful -- before the bitter divorce to her. Mom reached into the cupboard to pull out some pans.
"Are you gonna help me cook or what?" she said.
"Yeah, I'll help."
Mother yanked out a pot, and one of them slipped from her hand, hitting the floor with a loud CLANG!
     Kelly jumped. It sounded like a bullet.
She got goose bumps and she shivered. Now she sat down at the kitchen counter and wrung her fingers. She'd been doing that a lot lately too.
"What's wrong with you anyway? Why are you so jumpy?"
"I'm not." she lied.
"Whatever. Justin was jumpy look what happened to him," mother said, referring to Kelly's brother. "Anyway, your good-for-nothing father called the other day."
"What'd he say?"
"He wants to know how you're doing."
Kelly saw her dad occasionally, not as often since the divorce several years back, but Dad still called her and e-mailed her from his new home in Chicago.
"Did you hear me?"
"What?"  Kelly asked.
"I said your father wants to know what to get for your birthday." Kelly’s birthday would be in three months.
Kelly thought about it. "Nothing."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm positive."
"You should try to get everything you can out of the jerk," Mom hadn't spoken a nice word about Dad for four years now. In some ways Kelly understood. Dad had an affair with someone and both Kelly and Justin were angry with him for a while. But the two decided to make amends with their father. Besides, living with mom had never really been easy, even when they were together. "Milk him for everything he's got." She placed the pot on the stove, reached in the pantry and pulled out some pasta and spaghetti sauce. "Serves him right."
"Mom, can you just be positive today?"
Mother looked at her sternly. "Excuse me?"
"Oh...never mind."
"That's what I thought." Pause. "I don't like this new attitude you got going on here."
Kelly looked at her watch. "I can't stay actually, I have a study group ... we have a quiz tomorrow, a big one." OK. It was a lie but she didn't want to be around so much negativity. It was the same reason Justin chose to continue living at the sober living facility.
"OK.... well, come by tomorrow or when you can."
"OK." Kelly got up, grabbed her purse and keys. "See you later."
She walked out of the house and breathed a sigh of relief when she stepped outside.
By the time she got the car, she wondered where she'd go.
She thought of going to Tanya's. A couple of times she'd invited Kelly to a small Bible study Tanya had with three of the other girls from school. Kelly didn't want to go -- she was afraid they'd convince her to get baptized to save her soul and then monitor what she did with her money and whom she hung out with. "No, we're not the Church of Christ," Tanya said. "We just read the Word and talk about it and what we're going through." Other than that, Tanya was really the only person she talked to. The girl didn't look at her weird if Kelly talked about wanting to sleep with Kyle the cute guy from Starbucks.  Anyhow, she couldn't go over there anyway -- Tanya was working tonight.
She hadn't spoken to Kyle either. He’d text her already but she hadn’t responded. Actually, she hadn't spoken much to anyone, not him, or Justin, who also called her recently.  It dawned on her that, except for small chatter with Tanya and other students during classes, she’d sort of become a recluse. She would have to something about that.
There was Justin. He told her to visit him at the sober facility any time. But she didn't want to trouble her brother. He'd been through a lot, once being hooked on crystal meth. She secretly admired him for his efforts in recovery, and she didn't want to ruin that by telling him something that would cause him to worry.
No, she would go home. She didn't want to, unless Samantha was there. Not that she cared much about Samantha -- the girl didn't ask much about her, and for the most part, she was in and out. But many times Kelly found herself alone in the apartment at night and she found it to be terrifying. She kept thinking the Raiders man would show up. Sometimes Kelly's nerves got the best of her and she couldn't sleep much. She'd check the door several times to make sure it was bolted lock in one night.
Kelly got into her Toyota, turned the car on and began driving back to her place. In recent news the Toyota Company had to recall millions of cars because the gas pedal stuck to the floor and people had accidents. She was lucky her car was a 1999 model, one not affected by the recall. She was lucky in that case, though not lucky enough to escape that night.
She thought about it often -- well, more than often. Every day �" in the morning, in the afternoon, and by evening Kelly would be dousing herself in the shower again. It became a routine several times a week, standing in the shower for eons of time. PG&E loved her and Samantha was getting annoyed at these hour-and-a-half long “Hollywood showers,” as she called them.
During her Hollywood showers Kelly would transform into the winter coat observer-reporter. She’d study the scene, watching the pretty medium-build blond girl dressed in skinny jeans and a stylish hoodie sweater, an iPhone in the back pocket, helping herself to a 7-Eleven Slurpee.

When she drops the Slurpee the burly Raiders man cusses and aims the handgun right between Kelly's eyes.
"Give me what you got!" he shouts, never budging. Kelly is frozen, oblivious to the sticky Coke-berry juice oozing between her toes. She is focusing in on the barrel of the gun, pointed straight at her, and is momentarily dumbfounded--
"Give me what you got, B&&#&!" he hisses, now holding thegun sideways �" gangsta’ style -- right at her eyes.
Kelly jumps, grabs the wallet from her purse, and thrusts it at him. Lipstick and her compact mirror fall out of her purse, cluttering to the floor. Raiders man yanks the wallet from her hand and orders her to get on the ground. She drops to her knees on the floor, and Slurpee juice seeps through her pants.
He points the gun at her again. She raises her hands.
"I know you got more, don't lie to me, B(***!""
"It's all I got I swear--" she says. He should know she's a college student.
The man turns his attention back on the cashier, grabs the money from the cashier and orders him to lie on the ground with more colorful language. He orders the cashier to count to twenty and he turns to Kelly, ordering her to do the same, "--or I'll kill you!" Kelly closes her eyes and tucks her head, waiting for a shot. Instead she hears footsteps, the ringing of automatic bell over the convenient store's front door, and she remains still for another minute before she rises to her feet. The cashier is already on his cell phone calling police and running out the door after the robber. The robber has vanished and the cashier is in the parking lot looking around, from what Kelly could see. The cashier comes back in and is still on the phone. "Are you OK Miss? Are you OK? What did he take from you?" he asked.
She is in auto mode. "Just five dollars. And my --"
Her wallet.
Her wallet is gone.
She looked around frequently.
He has my wallet.
That is the first thought that came from her.


Kelly finally emerged from the shower after two hours. Samantha was home, though not very happy. But at least she wouldn’t be alone. Maybe she could sleep.
Kyle called a week later and this time she forced herself to talk with him. They called and texted each other for a couple of weeks--something Kelly forced herself to do, however reluctantly --and then they decided to go out on a Thursday night. He was definitely cute, with dark-hair, tall slender build, and with Justin Bieber hair.  It wasn't easy. She had some finals coming up and some times it was hard to concentrate on her classes. She should be studying more. But what were a few hours of fun going to hurt?
They went out to dinner. She didn't eat much, as she hadn't been these last few weeks. They talked about what the liked; he liked computer games and hiking, she liked hiking and painting, and they decide to hit up a movie. What movie? No chick flicks, not that one with Julia Roberts. They settled on a Matt Damon move. She liked Matt Damon.
But she should have figured out that this one had guns. Most of his films did. In this the camera portrayed him in full view, a handgun raised, the film zeroing in on the weapon. When Kelly saw this she tucked her head into Kyle's shoulder. He noticed.
"Hey, nothing happens here," he said. She looked at him. "You alright?"
"Uh...yeah." There sure were a lot of people asking her if she was OK. She was getting sick of it.
She continued to watch the movie, but more gun scenes popped on the screen, scenes of Matt Damon shooting someone, or someone shooting at him, or him chasing someone while shooting someone. The sounds of bullets pierced the movie theater, making loud and popping noises. People gasped and groaned in excitement and some chuckled. Their laughter seemed to echo across the theater. They actually found this exciting, but Kelly tensed up at every scene. When one part portrayed Matt Damon behind a gun, the barrel pointed straight at the audience, Kelly jumped up and bolted out of the theater.
She walked out and stood near the Starbucks-like Cafe stand. Kyle joined her in a minute.
"What's up with you?" he asked half-joking. "You're missing the movie."
"It's a stupid move, I'm not watching it," she snapped
Kyle rolled his eyes, annoyed, until he looked at her squarely again.
"What is it? What's wrong, Are you OK?"
"Why do people keep asking me if I'm OK?" she snapped. A couple walking by eyed her briefly.
Kyle glanced around and said. "You look like you're stressed, OK? Like, you're scared or something. That's all."
Kelly sighed. She looked down, her blond hair spilling over her shoulders. Mental note, get a haircut when you can.
"Kel...what's going on? You've been edgy all night, and in the last couple of times I talked to you, you seem, out of it."
"You know, I would have preferred to see a movie where people aren't gettin' blown up and killed all the time," she retorted, staring straight at him.
Kyle studied her for a moment and then nodded. "OK...listen, maybe, maybe we can call this a night, OK?"
"OK, let's do that."
"I'll take you home."
Good. Maybe he wasn't so cute after all.
He went back into the theater, got his jacket and her purse, and they both left the theater. They drove home in silence, and when she got out he didn't say a word. Well forget you then, she thought. She simply went up stairs, walked into her apartment, made sure the door was locked and bolted securely, and she headed straight for the bedroom.
 
Aaaaah. The hot water was fresh and rewarding. It washed the nervousness and edginess away.
Water trickled down her legs, her arms, and her back, like tiny streams of rivers, cleansing her of that night. She became the observer-reporter again.

Police officers seal off the 7-Eleven, questioning Kelly and the cashier. An hour later the police find Kelly's wallet -- a block from the store. Raiders man had dropped it. They tell her they want to keep it to dust for fingerprints. Fortunately, her driver's license, school ID, and discount cards are there, but her bankcard is missing. That doesn't comfort her. It means she'll have to close her bank account. She also is aware that he knows where she lives -- he must have seen the address. Surely he knows she lives in south side of town. Surely he can show up one day and finish the job, knowing that she has reported it to the police. That's why she keeps the doors doubly locked. That's why she is nervous. That is why she can't sleep.
And anyway she doesn't tell the cops everything. She doesn't tell them that Raiders man looked through her with cold eyes. She especially doesn't tell cops how freaky it was stare down the barrel of a gun, how empty and surreal it seemed, how crazy it was to see his forefinger on the trigger, shaking slightly under the strain of holding back from pulling it. She doesn't tell the cop how she realized how close she came to dying.

BANG! BANG!
Kelly shrieked, she lost her footing against the slippery tub and hit the tub floor, the water now pounding her face. It took a minute for the pain in her butt to subside before Kelly could move
He's here. He's found me and he's here!
She grabbed the edge of the tub, not sure what to do. Panic suddenly gripped her.
Oh goodness no.
Bang! Bang! Not bullets, someone was banging on the bathroom door.
The door opened.
"Get Away!"
"What are you screaming about!" Samantha snapped. "You've been in there an hour, and I'm tired of paying a high water bill!"
Kelly looked through the shower glass door and saw a fuzzy, yet feminine figure. Samantha. "Pick up the phone, it's your mom."
"Will you please get out of here and give me some privacy?!" Kelly snapped.
"Samantha cursed. "Stop being such a witch. Just talk to your mother." Kelly saw the figure put the phone on the sink and leave.
Kelly stood up now; though her legs trembled so hard she thought she'd fall. When she turned off the shower the steam rose up to the light and she felt her heart pound.
She was still terrified.
Kelly opened the shower door, wrapped a towel around her body, took the phone and walked into her room.
"Yes mom -"
"What's this about police?!" mother was pissed. “I got a call from cop today! What’s going on?!"
"Mom, nothing's going on --"
"They said they tried you on the cell but didn't reach you and now they called me. What the heck's going on?"
"Nothing mom."
"Nothing? You call being called by a cop nothing?!" Mom hissed. "Are you on drugs?! Don't lie to me, girl!"
"Mom, it's not drugs! Jeez! They're probably just calling me about the robbery."
"What robbery?!"
"Mom, I’m going."
"You better --"
"Mom, shut up!" Kelly hollered. "I'm sick of your negative crap and I so don't want to talk with you right now."
Kelly hung up the phone, and tossed the cordless on the bed. She threw on a t-shirt nightgown and was combing her wet hair when Samantha appeared in the doorway.
"What robbery?"
Kelly looked up.
"You were listening?"
"Yes, what robbery?" Samantha looked at her. "What's going on? What happened? Are you OK?"
"Will you stop asking me if I'm OK?!" Kelly snapped. "Everybody keeps asking me if I'm OK! I’m sick of it!"
Samantha just fell mute.
"If you want me to pay the whole water bill, I'll pay it." Kelly snapped. "Just leave me the hell alone, alright?!"
Samantha nodded slowly, not saying anything. She turned and left.
Kelly stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. Then she took off her nightgown, threw on a t-shirt and some jeans, put on some flip-flops, grabbed her purse and keys, and she left the apartment. If she couldn't stand under the shower, she could drive. She walked out of the apartment and went to her car, got in, and sat there.
She couldn't move.
It happened, you know.
She closed her eyes, once again, the thoughts coming back to her, as they had been these last couple of months now.
It happened, and you can't deny it.
She wasn't a winter coat reporter observing things in third person. She was that frightened pretty girl in a hoodie and skinny jeans, the one who dropped the Slurpee and starred down the barrel of her potential death.
The realization came to her like a thick thud in her stomach and Kelly hit the steering wheel with her fist, cussing.
Tears came then and she buried her head in the steering wheel.
She stared up at the night sky.
"Why God?" She asked suddenly. She'd never really talked to God before. He was out there. Maybe He'd listen. "Why did this happen?"
It was all she could say, however. After that, all she could do was cry.

Tanya was usually an early bird. Kelly could never figure it out. Kelly got up early when she had to. Tanya got early cause she wanted to. She would run in the morning three times a week, and she would do devotion times with God. That's discipline, and it's nuts. But this meant that Tanya was early to class, and it was no different here.  In fact, it was just as Kelly expected. Tanya came up, her braids pulled in a ponytail, dawning a purplish Baby Phat-style sweat suit, carrying her backpack and a devotional book. Kelly wore same pair of jeans from the night before, and a long-sleeved shirt. She sat propped up against the wall to the far right of the door leading into the building. A student or two walked by and went inside, but Tanya stepped up and over to Kelly.
"Hey," she said. "Class is starting in 10 minutes," she paused. Kelly didn't say anything, but she could tell Tanya sensed something was wrong. She didn't ask Kelly if she was OK this time, and she didn't rush into what was going on for the rest of the day. Instead Tanya studied Kelly for a couple of minutes, walked up next to her, set her own backpack down, and sat on the ground next to Kelly. 
"I was thinking," Tanya said. "We don't have to go to class today. He's only reviewing material for finals. Let's just sit out here for while."
She smiled at her. Kelly appreciated that.
Kelly didn't say anything for while, and neither did Tanya. The sun began to cast a warm light in the area where they sat. A few more students walked up the steps past them but they had become virtually invisible to them -- no one really cared if they were there. 
"Do you think God hears you when you pray to Him?" Kelly asked.
Tanya looked up at the sky and nodded. "Yeah. I mean, he doesn't like talk to you audibly or anything -- it's more of a stirring in your soul, or in your mind."
"Does he answer everything?"
Tanya thought about that. "He answers prayers, yes, but there's been times I had questions that I didn't even get answers for."
"And that doesn't upset you?"
Another long pause. "No...not really. It does sometimes, but I trust him. Maybe there's things He doesn't want me to know right now, and some times the answer is no. Sometimes the answers come later. And it's OK if I don't necessarily know everything."
Kelly nodded. "That's neat you have faith in something, even if you don't get it all the time."
Tanya shrugged. "It's not always easy...but God helps me. I guess if I knew everything, there wouldn’t be a point of going through things to grow. There are a lot of things I don't understand, but then, I guess that's what happens with relationships. You don't always get the person you love, but you know they love you, you experience their love for you, and you trust them."
"You think of yourself as having a relationship with God?"
"Well, yeah, it's what it's about, you know?" Tanya said.
Kelly looked at her friend now. There was something about what she said �" it made her feel, well, comfortable. Maybe it was time to tell someone after all.
"I got robbed at gunpoint,” Kelly blurted out.
Tanya looked at her now, her eyes wide. "When?"
"Two months ago."
Tanya turned her body to face her now, her eyes fully attentive; it somehow made Kelly feel more at ease to go on. "It happened at a 7-Eleven...." Somehow, repeating what happened wasn't as horrifying as she thought. A sense of relief seemed to well up in her as she let the words spill out. "The guy was robbing the cashier and I walked in on it. I was getting a Slurpee. He pointed the gun right at me -- right between the eyes. I could actually see his finger on the trigger, shaking, like he was this close to --" she didn't finish that part. "He took my wallet and five dollars I had inside, but he dumped the wallet later. I sometimes fear he'll show up where I live." She paused. "It's been two months and I can't stop thinking about it."
Tanya didn't say anything for along time, and Kelly wondered if maybe she'd said too much.
"I thought something had happened to you," Tanya said softly.       "You'd been edgy, kind of spacey, nervous...I was praying for you. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't want to press you..." she paused. "Have you told anyone else about it?"
"No, just you. I mean, people have asked, my roommate, mom..."
"It's not easy talking to your mom, huh?"
"Hell no. She's impossible. She doesn't even give Justin a chance." 
More silence between the girls.
"You're not going crazy, you know....thinking about it all the time," Tanya said.
"I feel like I am."
"But you're not."
"I'm not?"
"No, you're not."
"How do you know?"
"It's normal...." Tanya said. "You've gone through a traumatic thing and survived."
"It's stupid. It's not like he shot me. I mean, he just took money and left."
"Doesn't matter. It's still horrifying."
"I did think I was going to die," Kelly confessed. "I saw his finger shake on the trigger and I thought I was done for."
More momentary silence.
Tanya paused. "You have nightmares?"
"Sometimes. Mostly it just...I keep playing in my mind. I..I couldn't even go out with Kyle I ruined our evening at the movies last night." Kelly frowned. "I really liked him too." She looked down. "I don't know if I'll get through this... I'm scared all the time and I keep seeing that -- you know - the gun--I can't get it out of my mind."
Tanya looked at her and nodded, listening.
"Have you thought of talking to someone about it?" she finally asked.
"No, I don't want to go to a counselor," Kelly said. "I mean, I know it's the right thing to do, but...maybe not yet."
There was more silence.
"You think I should tell someone?"
"I think you should," Tanya said. "But it's up to you. It's how you feel about it."
Pause. "You think I should tell God?"
"Yeah," Tanya said. "Although you just did. He's heard every word."
"Do you think He'll tell me why this happened?"
"I don't know," Tanya admitted, "But I do know He's there for you and wants you talk to Him, even if you're angry."
"I don't know if I should talk with Him," Kelly said. "I'm not all like -- holy and stuff."
"God's not looking for someone who's a holy monk. He's looking for people like us who are screwed up."
Kelly smiled. "Justin would like that. He tells me about the 12-steps and the whole higher power -- Jesus thing."
Now she looked toward the campus, some more students were walking by. They trudged up the steps, walking into the building and going past them.
"The cops called last night. They found the guy," Kelly said. "They want me to go identify him. Would you go with me?"
"Of course I would." Tanya said. "What are friends for?"

It was almost nine at night.
The day hadn't been that bad after all. Tanya went with Kelly to the police station, and she even prayed with Kelly before they went inside. Kelly let her do the praying…she wasn't sure how to, but it seemed almost natural really, like talking to another person. The police assured her that the men behind the thick-tinted plexi-glass screen couldn't see her. She still requested that the room where they were be dark. After all, the man had her wallet. What if he found out where she lived? What if he was a gangsta’? He wasn't. He was a wannabe gangsta’, but had no connection to any of the local gangs. When she saw the tall men in the line-up, and recognized those cold piercing eyes of Man #3, she nearly went frozen with fear. Tanya, and the female officer told her it was OK.
“It’s him �" Number 3. It’s him,” Kelly said. 
Afterward, Tanya asked if Kelly felt OK about staying in the apartment alone if Samantha wasn't there.
"I'll be fine."
"If you ever need not to be alone, you can always stay the night at my house," Tanya said. Tanya still lived with her father and sister. "My Dad's big on security. He always makes us lock doors and he even has a house alarm and a 'Beware of dog' sign."
Kelly thought about it. "OK."'
That was a few hours ago.  It was nine and Kelly found herself in the shower once more, the hot water soothing her muscles and the tension she'd had these last two months.
But something was different. Usually she lost herself in the fake-observer role, drowning out everything around her. But standing there under the hot water, she realized she was only doing that, not drowning out everything, just standing in the shower. Perhaps disappearing from everything wasn't the best solution after all.
Again her thoughts wandered to that night. In that moment, when she starred down the gun's barrel, Kelly was sure she'd die, but she didn't. It felt strange that she didn't, almost like she'd walked into a peculiar fog, but she realized she hadn’t died. Standing in the tub, cupping the pounding water in her hands, she had a second realization from the memory: she had survived. It had been OK to admit what happened. It was OK to be relieved that she lived.
With that tears came -- the first ones she ever cried in the shower. She wept, her own tears mingling with the water. She wept allowing herself to feel those crazy emotions she'd tried to dissociate from all those weeks. She did need help and it was good to admit it. 
Justin did and he's doing better. Tanya must need help with life too because she turns to God. Doesn't mean I have to go without help, she thought.
After a few minutes tears subsided. Now she stared at the shower wall, thinking.
     It was a good idea to take Tanya up on her offer about staying the night. She was a true friend, and what she said really stuck with her. Maybe she'd check out the Bible study Tanya goes to. It couldn't be that bad. Besides, if God is real, as Tanya said, then He may have been the reason Raiders man didn't pull the trigger. He may have been the reason she was still alive.
Yeah, she'd give Tanya a call tonight. And she might consider a counselor too.
Besides, Kelly decided, she'd been in this shower long enough. They're struggling college students -- hiked up PG&E bills wouldn't make it easier. There would have to be an easier way to deal with this.
I'll try this talking to God thing, Kelly thought. It certainly will be a drier method.
With that, Kelly turned off the water, got out, wrapped herself in a towel and headed for the bedroom. It would be last Hollywood shower she would take.

Author's Note

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