Unjust

Unjust

I hear the trigger click into place. He is ready, his stance firm, barrel pointed. Towards me. It’s real; it’s happening…he’s going to shoot. I close my eyes and imagine a vivid scene. A scene that brought me here.

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It was a particularly fine afternoon, and I was strolling down the streets when I heard a scream. A child’s scream? A woman’s scream? I wasn’t sure. Everyone was going about their day; it wasn’t uncommon to hear gunshots and screaming in Chicago, but in broad daylight? That was strange. If it happened--when it happened-- shootings were normally a night thing. So something compelled me to walk towards the gunshot, against the current. I am not walking away from it like I usually do; what’s wrong with me?

I turn into the alley and see a woman holding a child. There’s red everywhere. The sight of the little boy’s blood makes me nauseous. The warning signals in my brain go off when I take a step towards them. I want to turn around and run back the way I came from. This is not a situation where I can panic at the sight of blood… I push my childhood thoughts aside for now, but I am daunted to come any closer; there is an aura about this woman that I am afraid to find out. She turns towards me with tear streaked cheeks and pleads for help. I still don’t take any steps nearer.

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It’s her eyes. It glints at me as if she’s telling me I deserve it.

Oh but I did. I just admitted to murdering a child that I’ve never seen or met in my life, and for no good reason either. I feel sick to my stomach. I take a breath. It’s the only thing I can do right now.

Sarah; she’s terrified. My eyes keep finding her horror-stricken face. It’s like she’s frozen there, unable to do anything, incapable of any words or actions. Then suddenly shrieks, clutching at the men, yelling at them to let go. She’s trying to get to me. I tell her to back off, but it’s only in my head. I’m not sure, but I don’t think she can read minds. Because if she could she would have stopped screaming by now.

If only she would stop. It really does take away from my concentration. My last moments alive.

Sarah. I followed her in. Into this big mess that I had nothing- well almost nothing- to do with. I needed to help her.

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The big barrel I’m behind smells horrendous. I don’t know what’s inside, but it’s distracting me from the task at hand. Trying to ignore the terrible shaking of my body, I inch my way towards Sarah and those loathsome buff men she’s with when something crunches beneath my feet. All heads turn toward me while I look down at the crumpled leaf in horror, thinking, Why?!

One of the men checks me over to see if I carry any weapons. Of course I don’t. Why would a civilian carry around weapons on a stroll? I mean, really. These guys must have been through a lot.

Then I see how bad the matter at hand really was. Sarah was on her knees, sobbing. No amount of pleading would do any good. These guys saw no mercy in anything, it was clear the moment you saw them. She was going to die.

No. I won’t let that happen.

Then a woman walks out from behind the men. She’s so familiar…

I knew I should have helped her in that alley. It all comes back to this now. I should have seen this coming; I groan as I let my stupidity hit me, hard. I’m sorry Sarah.

They didn’t really care who died. A life for a life. It was that simple to them.

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She was wrongly accused. Sarah. I knew it, she knew it, even those tough guys knew it. I just don’t get it. They knew that she wasn’t the one who killed the boy. Why would she have stayed otherwise?

That woman’s accusations aren’t correct. But why was Sarah found guilty? Right, because I can’t do anything about it. In fact, no one can. Not with that woman standing there.

All I could think was… no. This is not right. I have to do something-fast!

“It was me,” I blurt out. “I did it.”

Sarah stands there aghast while I walk up to them and say defiantly, “I killed the boy. Not Sarah. That’s what you want right?”

The bulky guy in the front glances over like I’m a piece of dirt. I can’t help but flinch when he takes a step towards me.

“Enough,” says one of them. I suppose he’s the head. He looks over at the man with the gun and jerks his head towards me. Oh no. What did I do?

I can see--I can feel her agony. It’s reaching all the way to my bones. Sarah, I’ll always be there for you.

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I shift my head towards the restrained Sarah grabbing at the air in front of her. She is screaming my name. Peter…Peter… she seems so distant to me, but rings in my ears again and again. I’m going to take that with me to my grave. If I have a grave, that is.

No no. Stop it. Keep your mind off of those thoughts. You’re helping Sarah. You’re saving Sarah. You love her, don’t you?

I will gladly die for you if that’s what I have to do.

How lovely. If only… if only……

I know it’s best for her but why is it so hard for me? I want to run away, be able to caress her, to look into her eyes… oh her dreamy eyes… but so bright and sparkling. So unlike those evil glinting eyes of that… woman. No, not like that at all. It’s the most beautiful thing I noticed about her when we first met. Oh, I never got a good chance to say goodbye, tell her I love her. I guess she’ll never really know. I glance towards Sarah helplessly as the bullet makes its way toward my heart... I just hope she'll be okay without me.

No, I just hope she’ll be okay.

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