Chapters: Stories on Sean & Kaycee

Good Day Part 1

It all happened so fast.

One moment, they were standing in line, waiting for their turn to order. The next, there was a loud scream.

A gun, pointed right at her.

BANG! BANG!

Kaycee instinctively shut her eyes and ducked, bracing for the flesh-splitting impact of bullets. But it never came.

Instead, there was a loud thud, a weight falling right in front of her. She cracked her eyes open to find Sean bleeding out on the floor. Two bullet wounds - one in the shoulder, and the one in his side - began to bloom red through his beige shirt.

"No!" A scream ripped out of Kaycee's chest as she fell to her knees next to him. Sean lay still, motionless except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He was hyperventilating, visibly in shock with what just happened.

Looking at the mangled, bloodied body of her best friend, she didn't know what to do. Her heart hammered hard in her chest, almost as if it was trying to outpace her lungs' capacity to take in air. There was no air in the room. And there was absolutely no version of reality wherein she would be prepared for a situation like this.

Why did this happen? Why did that man shoot directly at me? Why did Sean jump in front of me?

Why? Why? WHY?

"Kayc?" He managed to mutter between gulps of air, breaking her out of her reverie. His boyish features were still relatively calm, but his eyes were wide with panic.

"I'm here." She replied, taking his hand in hers. His fingers were bloody; he must have tried to touch one of the wounds.

The diner had descended into pure anarchy, as customers fled the scene. Everyone was on hyper-drive, but Kaycee was seeing it all in slow motion.

"What do I do? What do I do?" She chanted, looking down at him. Logic and reason went out the window the second she spotted blood, thoughts scrambled into a million pieces. The only coherent thing that her brain could form was a stream of please, please, PLEASE!

Some of the staff rushed to the fallen teens, offering aid in any way. A middle-aged woman, perhaps the manager, commanded Kaycee to put pressure on his wound in his side while she pressed a cloth over his bleeding shoulder.

Managing to pull back some of her wits, Kaycee rummaged through Sean's backpack for a spare shirt. He often brought two extra shirts for dance class, knowing that he tends to sweat a lot. Finding it, she quickly balled it up and hovered it over the red gash by his ribs.

"I'm sorry," She whispered quickly, then pressed it over the gaping wound.

Sean's agonizing scream will forever haunt her nightmares.

The metallic smell of blood made her head spin and her stomach churn. The one saving grace was that the spare shirt was black, so she couldn't see how much blood was seeping into it, but there was enough for her fingers to be tinged red. Tears raced down her face and snot was dripping down her nose, but she couldn't wipe either away because both hands were preoccupied with the boy that just saved her life.

Somewhere in another part of the diner, someone was calling for an ambulance, while another was ringing the police. But all Kaycee could truly register was the boy with the brown eyes, one hand warm in his tight grip, the other hand warm with traces of his blood.

"The ambulance is on its way." A male voice said. Kaycee didn't care. She didn't even turn to look at him, refusing to take her eyes away from Sean. He held her gaze too, as he uttered his thanks to whoever was helping them.