Crazy is the Name of My Game

( 7 ) I am dangerous.

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 Erica Santos

“ERICA!!!”

The frenzied screams and collective gasps filled me with dread as I leaped into the air. My heart seemed to block my throat as the cold wind whipped against my face, my feet quickly losing the feel of the unsteady branch. My eyes were large with fear.

I could feel the emptiness in the pit of my stomach, and I reeled at the thought of what awaited me if I fail. At that very instant, I wish I could defy gravity. Or maybe wings would sprout behind me. Unshed tears stung my eyes, slightly blurring my vision. Sharp leaves and twigs brushed against my exposed skin –but I couldn’t care less. My right hand reached out in front of me, my fingers clawing into anything solid.

My mind had gone numb.

I forgot how impossible everything was, forgot how I hated the suicidal lunatic on the rooftop, forgot the searing ache of my ankle, and even forgot how to breathe. There was only one thing in my mind.

I was falling.

“– laia!”

Abruptly, my right hand caught the rough, rock-hard edge of the old building. My head hit the wall hard – or so I think. I dangled precariously in one hand, but I felt immediate relief.

Aw mi gahd, I’m alive! Seriously, I’m alive! I must be a real bad person, ‘cause bad guys don’t die easily. Or maybe I was a monkey in my past life. Or it’s just that the good spirits really love me. Either way, I’m alive!

Without wasting any more time talking to myself, I pulled my body up.

My knees were unsteady as I stood, and if Greene wasn’t in enough trouble, I promise that I would eventually kill him myself for putting himself in his kind of mess.

“Stop this, Claire-bear.” My head snapped to the two restless figures on the opposite side of the building. “Put that down and everything will be back to normal. I promise.”

 I heard unfamiliar warmth in Greene’s voice, almost akin to a caressing plead, that it made me recheck whether I did hit my head hard. His voice sounded so believable, so sure that if I didn’t know better I would think that he really cared.

Or did I really know?

“Lies! Lies!” the crazed brunette shrieked, her knife pointed dangerously near his chest. “I will never forgive you! Never! DIE!!!”

Three things happened simultaneously.

Claire Flinn took a deliberate stride towards him. She drove the glinting blade directly into his chest, only to hit him on one of his shoulder blades.

Jason Greene took an involuntary step backward, causing his ex-gf to fail damaging his heart and/or lungs. But he took one step too many. There was nothing more behind him. Nothing but air.

And I, the stupid, reckless I, ran like there was no tomorrow, my body moving before I could even process a thought. Everything came in dreamlike – no, scratch that – nightmarish quality. My heart hammered violently in my chest, and all I could hear was the pounding noise in my ears. I knew I was screaming, but my voice was lost in the collective cries of the students and the approaching blaring sirens below.

Was it too late?

Was I too late?

I saw him slowly falling backwards, his stormy blue eyes dark with surprise.