Ruby Red

IX

My mind goes blank before the impact. If he successfully killed me, I can't feel it. Which might be a good thing. Everything disappears for a moment. The biker, the knife, my ceiling. The stereotype is that you see your whole life flash before your eyes moments before your death, but for me it's quite the opposite. The calm before the storm, except for me, it's the calm before the calm. Blank.

For a few seconds it feels like I have died, until a sharp pain in my upper arm brings me back to reality. The knife didn't touch my throat. Instead, it left a cut in my arm. The heavy weight of the biker suddenly gets dragged off me, and I try to catch my breath. Is someone else here? I expect to hear my furniture breaking or any other audible signs of violence, but instead all I hear is a loud thud when the biker drops to the floor. How...? With a heavy head and hazy vision I slowly push myself up with my unharmed arm. Inside the doorframe I see a tall silhouette. It slowly approaches me, and crouches next to me. I blink a few times to see clearly, and slowly but surely start to recognize Ken's facial features. He grabs my unharmed arm and lifts it over his neck. His arm slides around my waist and he helps me up. My neck feels sore, and when I finally look at the cut on my arm I nearly faint. Blood is dripping out of the cut like a leakage. Ken guides me to the living room and carefully sits me down on the sofa. "Stay here." But right before he walks away I grab his wrist. It's only when I see his confused expression that I realize I grabbed him with my injured arm.

"How did you know?" I ask, and when he inhales to answer, my words just flood out. "Did you plan this and come here to look like the good guy? Why were you here to save me moments before my death?" He carefully pushes my hand off his wrist. No, I refuse to let these questions go unanswered.

I raise my voice at him, and judging by the look on his face, it catches him by surprise. "You need to tell me why you always show up at the right moment. Tell me how you always find me. Tell me why you always save m-" "I don't know!" He suddenly yells back, sending a rollercoaster of shivers down my spine. The silence feels heavier than ever. I've never heard anyone this distressed. "I don't know why I always know when something bad is going to happen. I don't know why it's always you. I just don't know!" He breathes heavily and stares at the ground, then his hands. My annoyance level reaches it's peak. I step forward and grab his chin, turning his face to me. If he can't look at me by himself, I'll make him look at me.

I want to yell at him, I want to tell him everything that's on my mind, but I can't. It's the first time he's ever looked right at me, let alone made eye contact with me. I'm not used to it. My grip around his chin loosens. The first thing I notice are his unusual irises. I narrow my eyes slightly to get a better look. Inside the dark brown chocolatey color, there are hints of red. For every second that goes by, the red grows and replaces the brown bit by bit. His eyes widen in fear. I've never seen him this scared. Is eye contact really that scary? The colors in his irises keep shifting until finally, they are reversed. Now they are red, with hints of brown. How is that even possible? So many words await on the tip of my tongue, so many questions. Maybe I'm just hallucinating, or it's the lack of lighting. Never once do I break eye contact with him. "Was it that hard to look me in the eyes?" I let go of him and step back.

For some reason he keeps staring at me silently. Oh, so now he suddenly can't stop looking? "How..." he mumbles to himself as he closes the distance between us again. I slowly lift my head to look at him, and when our eyes meet for the second time, his lips part slightly in severe confusion. He hesitates. A few seconds go by, and he finally speaks.

"Who are you?"