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535words
I hunched on the sill, voice shaking. “M-Mr. Davies… you… you gotta tell me what I did! W-what did I do wrong? Please?” Pure stall tactics. I’m quiet, keep to myself. Who could I possibly have enraged like this? He had to be a psycho, snapped by something.
“You don’t know? YOU DON’T REMEMBER?” His face contorted with rage. “You killed my daughter! HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW?!”
My breath hitched. Hope flared. “Mr. Davies! Look! Really look! I haven’t killed anyone! You’ve got the wrong person!”
“It WAS you! That face! I’d know it anywhere, even in hell!” he spat.
“No, I swear I never—”
“SHUT UP! YOU MURDERER! TODAY I SETTLE THIS!” He roared, stepping forward, raising the crossbow. He wanted me to suffer, not a quick kill. He hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. I gritted my teeth. Time to gamble. I tensed to jump through the broken window.
BANG!
A deafening blast, like the world cracking open. Mr. Davies’s head jerked violently sideways. A spray of red mist and fragments bloomed. He stood frozen for two endless seconds, then collapsed like a felled tree.
Dead? Was he… dead?
I stayed frozen on the sill, terrified to move.
“FREEZE! POLICE!”
“SURVIVORS? REPORT!”
Two uniformed officers burst into the wreckage. The uniforms didn’t calm me. What if they were part of the gang?
One officer lowered his weapon slightly. “Miss? You the victim? Come on down. You’re safe now.”
I pressed myself against the wall. “Who are you? Prove you’re police!”
He held up his badge, stepping back. “Easy now. It’s over. Are you Vivian? We got a call from your boyfriend.” He seemed genuine.
Still… “What’s my boyfriend’s name?” I demanded.
“Ethan Shaw made the report. You’re from Seattle, right?” His tone was patient. The owner wouldn’t have known Ethan’s name. I started to relax. But doubt surfaced. Hadn’t I mentioned Ethan at dinner?Did I say his name…?
Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall.
“Viv! VIVIAN!” Ethan’s voice. I’d know it anywhere.
“In here!” I called, relief flooding me.
Ethan burst in, soaked. A cop blocked him. “ID?”
Ethan thrust his license forward. “Ethan Shaw. I’m the one who called it in. Vivian’s my girlfriend!”
Police checked his ID and call log, then let him pass.
“Son, your girlfriend’s in shock. Get her down from there, it’s dangerous.”
“Right, thanks, Officer…” Ethan approached, breathing hard.
“Viv, it’s over. You’re safe. Come down.” He opened his arms. “I’ll carry you. Glass everywhere.”
Seeing him, the terror of the night – every near miss, every impossible choice – crashed over me. I burst into violent sobs and let him lift me from the sill.
Police watched me safely down. “Stay put. We’ll need statements at the station shortly.”
“Of course, of course,” Ethan answered for me, rubbing my back. “Just give her a minute. She scares easily.” He held me close as I wept uncontrollably against his chest.
“Alright. Call if you need us,” the officer said, turning to the scene.
