Pricked

8

     A knock at the door wakes me, I hadn't realized I fell asleep. I was so distraught about the king, fix or gone, no Mitch, stupid doctors, the list goes on and on. A new man, a tall man in an obnoxiously white outfit walks through the door with a young boy following at his tail. A cross hangs low on both of their necks. A bible in their arms and the boy also holds a cup of oil, probably to anoint me with its fake healing powers.

"Oh God." I rise up and try to urge them out the door. "Nope, nada, out! I don't need a God here. I need good medicine which obviously you don't have, so get out!" I want to rip the book from his hands and tear the pages from the spine. I want to chuck the book out the window and send the torn pages twirling down with it. Flying until the words and the lies it tells, hits the ground and are no longer part of my life. But the verses they speak still ring out in my head from when I was young.

"La, la, la, la, laaaa!" I sing cupping my hands over my ears trying to forget the verse that used to be as so many others, drilled into my mind. I try to push the thought out of my mind, out the door of my memories.

**********

"Let's begin with a prayer," heads fall down and hands clasp, and all eyes close.

"Mama" I ask mid prayer,

"Shhh honey." Mama says placing a hand on my knee.

"But mama," I whisper getting closer to her. Mama opens one eye and looks to me and leans in closer.

"Amen"

"What Harriet?" she asks a slight smile on her freckled face.

"That man," I point to a man in grey, wearing a big bulky jacket and a tall boots. "He's never been here before." Mama looks over slightly and examines the man.

"I don't think I have seen him either, we can say hi after the service okay honey?"

"No I don't want to say hi mama," my voice raises unintentionally and a woman in front of us shushes me. I look back to the pastor and hold mama's hand tightly. "Something is not right" I whisper but try and focus on the words, not the pound of my chest or the sweat that is beading on my face.

Bang, Bang, Bang.

Screams ring out and before I can figure out what is happening, what had just happened blood soaks my hands. I feel no pain though, just fear.

"Daddy?" I look to my left,

"Get down sweetheart, get down." He's yelling but the ringing in my ears is too loud that his voice sounds no more than a whisper.

"Mama, get down!" I grab at her but she doesn't move. "Mama please get down." I think I'm yelling but gun fire continues to blaze and the screams only get louder. "Mama" I say again and finally look to my hands, to really look.

"Daddy!" Fear takes over and I shake mama. "Daddy, is mama okay?" He pulls me low and reaches over to mama.

"Honey?" He asks pulling her to the ground behind the row of chairs to the safety of this moment. "Honey?" He puts a hand on her neck and waits a moment, I keep holding her hand, begging her to wake up.

"Daddy what's wrong with her?" He says nothing, he's trying to be strong because I am weak. Mama always told me I was so strong and brave but I don't feel strong and brave I feel weak and cowardly. I feel alone in this chaos. Daddy rises up and looks around, I peer over the chairs as well still not letting go of mama's hand. People lay in pools of blood, others scream in pain. Blood is everywhere.