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I was in shock, utterly confused.
“I was waiting in the car for him. Thought you’d go for the payoff, considering how wealthy you are now. Instead,” his voice chokes up, anger flashes in his face. “You killed him. I've come to pay back the favor."
He gave a gruff laugh, realizing I'm unarmed. I think of how I also realized I was unarmed, my nearest weapon hiding in the brick wall.
I go to explain, to tell him that his brother pulled a gun first. “I had to—”
My words are cut off. A powerful shot, blowing me back, sending me to the ground. Pain. My ears ringing. Darkness. There's something else there, a second memory tickling the back of my mind.
A deep yearning wells inside me, an urge to remember something I can't put into words. I rise to my feet. Unsteady. Unsure. Pain, filling every inch of my aching body.
Is all of this just a bad dream?
I scan the alleyway for any sign of what happened. I see nothing but shadows clinging to the walls. My blood spilled on the pavement. I stumble forward. A sharp pain hits me in my chest. I double over, gasping.
Water comes to my eyes, springing from the pain and I try to comprehend what happened.
The yearning grows stronger. A deep want for something...
No...
Not something.
Someone.
I look down at the ground, now spinning in my blurry vision. I pick up the hoodie, bringing it to my face and inhaling. There’s a hint of a familiar scent. A powdery, sweet, earthy smell.
In a distant corner of my mind, I sense the presence of a girl—the feel of her warm lips against mine. She saved me. I kissed her. Then she left and I must have passed back out. Or fallen asleep. Maybe I was in shock.
I dreamed that she came back to me, that we had sex right here in this alleyway. Leave it to me to be dying in the street and have a sex dream.
Have I been that lonely? Sure, I date. But any time things start to get serious, I break it off.
No need to repeat my parents’ mistakes.
I'm not crazy. There was a girl. One who breathed air into my lungs. A girl who had found me and saved me, then ran.
The kiss was real.
Where is she?
What is she running from?
I don't remember much, but I can't forget the fear in her eyes.
I'm desperate to remember all of her. I try, but all I can recall is her eyes on mine, the softness of her presence, the sound of her voice as she touched me.
I want her. I want to find her. Is she okay?
The longing for her is overpowering.
I move forward, one foot in front of the other, heading home, the hoodie clutched in my fist.
Bits and pieces come to me as I move.
I definitely kissed her. That part wasn’t a dream.
What was I thinking? I guess I wasn't. Delirious from the gunshot wound to the shoulder. I'm lucky that fucking guy was such a bad shot and terrible at finishing the job. I should be dead. I've got to get back to the Village, to the family doctor.
