Behind The Mask

Chapter 46

As the sun dawns over the horizon, throwing a light streak over the hotel room carpet I finally get up from the corner of the bed I have been sitting on. I walk past where the tv is standing with the pill I was given last night to help me sleep, but which I felt I could not take.

As quietly as I possibly can I open up the glass door that walks out on the small balcony overlooking the back gardens of the hotel, breathing in the fresh air as I walk out, feeling the breeze against my still bare chest with the streaks of dried blood to be seen on it here and there. I close the door just as silently behind me, hoping that E.J. won't hear the door and wake up from the sleep that makes him look like a small innocent boy who has never seen any trauma in his life.

It doesn't seem quite possible that everything in the rising sun looks so normal while everything that happened last night changed the course of history for a lot of people forever.

I open my phone, and Google the latest news.

I click on the first article and read.

Gunman kills 14 at LGBTQ nightclub in California

A 24-year-old gunman entered a LGBTQ nightclub, Check Mate in California, posing as a normal patron, just past 10pm on Saturday, later opening fire, killing at least 14 people and injuring 21 others, before fleeing the scene, police said in the early hours of Sunday morning.

The suspect in the shooting at Check Mate was identified as Derick Henderson, according to the local Police Chief. He used an automatic rifle in the shooting and two firearms were found at the scene, the Police Chief said.

The suspect was apprehended while attempting to flee the scene, along with three possible accomplices. The four have been arrested.

Police said they are investigating whether the attack was a hate crime and noted Check Mate's relationship with the LGBTQ community.

In a statement on social media, Check Mate said it was "devastated by the senseless attack on our community" and thanked the Police for their "swift and personalized help in such a tragic situation". The statement went on to say, "We are grieving together with the families and friends of the victims" while noting, "it is with great sadness that we also say goodbye to a fabulous longstanding performer Lady Lalaland, who will leave a huge loss in our hearts and our stage". The club's website says it will be closed until further notice.

I stop reading the article at this point, closing the window on my phone and looking up into the air, finally changing to a light blue above me. It feels unreal to read the words like that, not conveying any feeling or emotion of what really happened. It's so impersonal that a reader will never know how it really played off. How half an hour was stretched into what felt like days. How by the time the bodies were being removed and our statements had been taken by the police, we were emotionally to tired that we physically could not cry anymore. The journalist writing and the people reading the article will never know about what led up to us being in that club, and how what should have been a fairy tale turned into a nightmare. How in the aftermath, Will needed to be pulled away from Cameron's body by force as he screamed and fought until he was sedated by a paramedic who feared together with us that Will might hurt himself. After that we were allowed to come home and bring him with us. The police asked that he needed to come to the station today to give his statement, which I think is just cruel. Nobody that went through what we have been through should have to recount every single detail within an hour of it happening. Living through it was enough. Reliving it was absolute hell.

My phone starts vibrating in my hand, and I answer quickly without looking before the tone can start playing, potentially waking E.J.

"Brody," I answer.