I Fell Asleep

Stupid movies giving me all these dumb ideas

Disbelief, then a horrible dizzying pain.

This had happened before. Once, just one other time. I had done the same dumb thing again. Why do I always make the same, idiotic mistakes?

I collapsed against the cold, marble wall, my vision fading into a mess of images. The world spun in circles, and a disassociating feeling of nothingness engulfed me. My ears buzzed, and the world was washed crimson with my pain.

I was dying.

It was slower this time, less intense in some ways but more in others. The sensation of death was more vivid; the slickness of blood at my feet, my soul trying to flee my body, the primal instinct of fear and anger. Hadn't I just promised to myself that I wouldn't die? That I would keep going no matter what? Aye, that's right. I wasn't going to just pass away because of some punk who decided to shoot the only person that showed him kindness.

Determination is empowering. It took the edge off of my panicked state.

Admittedly, it was kind of my fault that he shot. I tried to do this move that I saw in a movie, where you grab the gun out of a person's grasp and beat their entitled butts with it. Instead of pointing the gun down when twisting it out of his hand, I had pointed it up.

Bang! The bullet had ricocheted off the ceiling and hit me. Ouch.

He had fled when I collapsed. Oh, but he wouldn't get far. I pushed myself upright, bones creaking. The world seemed to stabilize, though the edges of my vision were fading.

Time to catch up with that punk.

I stumbled out of the marble room, the movement making the world spin again. The glass and metal door automatically slid open, revealing a picturesque kitchen. Spotless, clean, bar stools carefully line up, marble counter tops shiny from being scrubbed so much. What a farce.

"Come out!" I called. "I know you're in here. You can't leave. Ever."

Another door opened, and my sister stepped inside the room. Her face twisted in confusion at my crumbling state of mind and body. "Ilana?"

My blood froze in my veins. That man still had the gun, he still had control over the lives of people. He could hurt her. I hurried over to her, my erratic walking pattern caused her to step back. I clung to her. "You've got to run. The man escaped."

"Silly," she said, helping me get back on my feet. "He's locked up. There's no way he could escape."

Frustration and fear rose up in me like a tidal wave. "You've gotta run. Please. It isn't safe."

She doesn't listen. They never do. They always know best. They're older, more experienced, wiser. You'd think that maybe, just once they'd listen. Nope. 

I see him emerge out of the corner of my eye, his movement nearly inaudible. My sister doesn't seem to notice.

A split second, I push her down, and then the world turns to dust.