Riverside Bench

The Night is Dark

"I've done it". She stood there. Her pale skin creeping into the slight hint of light. In the darkest room of the house. He sat in the office chair, the chair turned away from her. His crooked face blocked by the darkness. His deep voice intimidated her even more. "Have you killed him? You know what's on the line." She nodded. He raised his eyebrows, "Did you bring back the knife. Let me see his blood." She handed him a lightly bloody knife. She covered the bloody scar on her arm. He nodded, "Perfect work. And where did you leave him?" She spoke slowly, "By the bench." He nodded once again, "Very good." Her palms were covered in sweat, she was so nervous. He smirked, "Amelia, have you gone soft?" She stood tall, "No. I am just tired. May I go to rest?" He nodded for the last time, "Off you go." 

White lights beamed into his sore eyes. A crew of doctors and nurses rushed in. He was obviously in a hospital room. But he had not remembered what happened the day before. He had not remembered what Amelia had said to him. He didn't remember her evil glare or her intimidating tone. Alan opened his eyes all the way. He looked around, "Where am I?" A nurse grabbed his arm softly, "You were knocked out unconscious dear". "By who?", Alan asked. Doctors stared at each other, "We don't know." He tried getting up, but a painful headache pulled him back. A nurse calmed him down, "You have a concussion. But no severe brain damage was found. We just need you to rest for a day or two." He sighed, "I don't remember what happened." "It will come back to you in a few weeks, days, or months. We are unsure of when the memory of what happened will come back.", a nurse said. 

Later that night, Alan found himself in a state of confusion. He couldn't put it out his head that someone out there is hunting him down. He knew that the case must be getting more dangerous. But it's too late to stop the case. He was in knee-deep. Into the shallow end, as the worse would come. The deep waters would sweep him in, so his head is pushed against the sand. Begging for air, as the waves push him down. Fear isn't the only thing making Alan regret his choices. 

But he needed this, a chance to escape his endless void of regret. If he solved the most important case of his life, he would have answers. He didn't need to be a hero, just a good person. Sometimes he just needed time for himself, not his feelings. 

No stars outlined the blurry sky that night. He looked out of his window. Just darkness covered the sky. Even the moon was gloomy that night. Then a little spark popped out of the sky. Maybe it was just an airplane. But it looked like a star. A bright star. It was his wife telling him that she's better, and she's happy.  And that thought made Alan smile, even though his jaw was bruised and it hurt. Alan smiled that night. He even had a beautiful dream, not a nightmare.