Chapter 31

11 3 0
                                    

I dreamt of Darren.

We were at the wedding again but everything was slightly off. There was no roof in the ballroom and no chandeliers to create light.  The sky was starless and when the gunfire started, I couldn’t see where I was going.

I was running, trying to weave through the crowd but getting jostled around too roughly to make any progress. Sequins from the dresses of the guests scratched my bare legs. Dress shoes stepped on my toes. There were elbows being jammed into my ribs and soon I was being dragged backwards to where the gunshots grew louder and louder.

I was pushed to the ground and the crowd seemed to thicken. I was crawling on my hands and knees when I heard Darren’s voice. He was calling me towards him, saying that I was close, to keep moving. Before I could make any real progress, a five inch heel went straight through the skin between my thumb and pointer finger. The woman kept walking, ripping her shoe out of me as if I was nothing more than a wad of gum on the sidewalk.

I shrieked as blood poured down my forearm. Blood on my tan skin. Blood and torn flesh. A bloodied gaping hole. It was all I could focus on. Someone's leg knocked into the side of my head and I fell onto my side. My vision blurred and the ballroom shifted on its axis.

Someone grabbed onto the heel of my shoe and pulled me by it. Red streaked the ground. Blood everywhere. Blood on everything. Why could I never escape it?

The strap dug into my ankle. There was more blood pouring out of me as it cut deep into my flesh. Then Nancy appeared on top of me, drenched in her husband’s blood as she had been on that night. Her eyes were wide and wild. Her hair stuck to her forehead which was drenched in a feverish sweat. Her body radiated a scorching heat that burned wherever we connected. She was reaching for my throat.

All I could smell was copper in my nose.

"He was my husband!" she screamed, baring her teeth at me. "How could you? How could you?!"

The fleeing crowd parted in the center and a beam of light cast down to create an illuminated walkway. Darren stood at the end of it, pale and bony. He had his arms glued to his sides, his gaze fixated on Nancy. Her hands were squeezing my throat. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream.

It felt like an eternity until Darren made it to me.

He raised his arm towards Nancy.

No.

He had a gun. He held it at Nancy's temple. Preoccupied with me, she didn’t react.

He fired.

My vision was soaked in red.

As soon as I woke up, I called Darren to ask if I could see him. I needed to erase the phantom version of him who had committed murder and paint over the red with the soft yellows and gentle blues that truly represented him. I wanted to be reminded that in a crowd of hysterical people, at least one of them would hold their hand out to me. Darren hadn’t let me get trampled or lost in the crowd. He saved me by guiding me out. I had no idea why my subconscious had distorted the events into a horrifying nightmare but I needed his help to wash it away.

I had gone to sleep in the early morning hours because I had been out with Vincent. Because of the timing and because it was the weekend, this meant my whole family was home. Despite their warning yesterday, I got dressed and walked towards the door with as much fake confidence as I could muster. They liked Darren so I assumed they'd be fine that I was going to see him. I hoped that they had cooled off from yesterday. It was common for Tìo and Tìtì to blow up only for them to level their stances once given the time to cool off. They had crossed a line yesterday but maybe they could come back from it. I was reluctant to believe that somewhere between Adonis being killed and the present, that something irreversible happened to us as a family.

Blood On Her HandsWhere stories live. Discover now