I step off the city bus and into a busy city filled with skyscrapers that are half shrouded in cool grey storm clouds. I look up at the grey sky, threatening to rain once again, the city buzz fills my ears. My cello feels weightless compared to my tough coat. I adjust the leather strap. A cold wind sweeps past me, it tousles my choppy brown hair and brings a chill. I pull up the collar of my coat and walk deeper into the monochrome city. It is bustling today, many people have gathered here in Portland to see the music and art festivals. I turn left from the main street, heading down a more familiar one. I have been here many times,I signed up for the stringed arts competition. I'm supposed to meet a friend so we can go to the hotel together. My black boots hit the wet pavement letting out a small squeak as I take a sharp turn down the market street. I look into shop windows; pretty dresses and sleek suits in one. In another, fancy boots and sharp high heels. All things I can't afford. But all things I don't want. A raindrop splatters on my nose. I quickly squeeze up under an eave of a storefront to stay dry from the rain that is now pouring down in sheets, staining the rough pavement. Does it ever not rain here? I wonder. I look at an old clock on the side of an old rustic building across the street; it's crusted in rust with small tints of brass colorations, it reads 1:27.
"Crap..." I mutter. I am going to be late to my recital. If I don't hurry up, Mr. Romansky will most likely kill me; I'm somehow always late. I dash out into the downpour and into the street, oblivious to my surroundings.
"YOUNG LADY!" A middle aged woman with wide eyes yells at me, a horrified expression on her face. I turn to see what she is yelling about, but I trip over a bump in the road. Everything seems to go in slow motion; I can see every rain drop as I fall, each one reflecting the same thing- a large truck hurtling towards me as my helpless form falls into its path. It's so slow in my mind that I can see every detail, every mark on the truck, dents and rust, colors, and the blank ignorant expression on the driver's face. I try to turn away- to put my hands up in front of my face- to protect myself, but it's too late. It all happens so fast, and time speeds up around me again. Right before the truck crashes into my small form, I see my hands flicker with warm light. I feel the warmth travel through my body, and the light engulfs me before the truck can. The last thing I hear is a light sizzle as the rain hits the warmth, and at that moment, all of the noises seem to disappear and everything goes dark.
I open my eyes to see people lined along the street taking photos, whispering, crying, avoiding, but all looking at me. A high pitched ringing covers up most of the sounds; all I can hear are muffled shouts and whispers, and I can feel the sting of cuts on my forehead oozing red down my face.
How am I still alive? What did I do?
"Monster..." A woman trying to comfort her crying baby growls at me. Monster? How am I a monster? The thick smell of smoke and burning oil starts to immerse me, and that's when I turn around. There is a giant truck behind me, burnt and twisted just a few feet from my face, it's battered metal gleaming a dull silver. Sound seeps into my ears of the driver, groaning and clawing at his chest. The man hangs out of the broken windshield, and I realize that he is clawing at a large piece of glass that is lodged in his chest. His eyes are cut, the blood that trickles down his cheeks sizzle on the steaming hood of the truck. The items from the truck have been thrown about by the explosion, unidentifiable. I have to help him I- even though I know it would be useless, and that he's past saving, but I try anyway. When I stand the world tilts and twists around me and I fall back to the ground. Helpless. It was just supposed to be a normal day. I was supposed to play a song I wrote. Laugh and smile. Eat suspicious food from market stalls. How did I end up here? Tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I don't let them fall. I have to help the driver. Even if it won't do any good for him, it will save me. It will make me feel as if this wasn't my fault, that I did try to make things right, instead of just letting him die.
Behind me a burning light pole snaps, shattering my thoughts and forcing me back into reality. The sound echoes between the tall grey buildings. It falls atop the man, putting him out of his misery, before I can do anything, but in the process, splattering his contents everywhere. I hear screams behind me. His blood is painting my face, and I watch as one of his eyes rolls up to my hand, bumping it lightly. I shriek and scramble away trying to wipe the blood away, but when my fingers touch my face, my skin burns. I look at my hands and realize that they are on fire. Fire? I scream once again feeling panic taking over my control, I scrape my hands against the ground trying to put the fire out. I scrape them on the ground over and over again until I understood, that the fire was part of me, that I was a monster, that I had done this. I now sit limply on the ground staring up at the grey sky, the rain washes away the blood, but it's still there. It will always be there.
Today I killed a man. How? I think. Today i became a monster. how? ask myself these questions over and over. And the truth is, I had no clue. It was all normal, but here I am now.
A black helicopter hovers above me its whirring blades drowning out the sound of the street commotion. Men in swat gear pour out of vans like the water pours off the roof, they circle me, their big shiny guns pointed at my body. I do not cry, I do not scream. All I do is stand up, all I do is accept what I have done, but really, I did not know what I had done, it was still lost to me. I let them cuff me and tie me up. Before they shoved me in the back of their black van I see my cello. It's in splinters and my flames gently eat away at it. Seeing my cello like that, the one thing I had spent hours practicing to become great, and right when I was going to show the world how amazing I was this happened. My eyes fill with tears and I let them fall. Before I can think of anything else, a girl wearing all black steps in front of me, she wears a black blindfold. Her pale hand reaches up and lifts the blindfold and I see a flash of orange and then I can't remember, and I fall to my knees, the world around me is breaking, everything I thought I knew was gone. The world shifts one last time, back into a twisted form of reality and I fall to the ground and blackness covers my vision.
