2017 Anthology

12th | @thrifts

She felt nothing.

She could feel his heartbeat against her own chest but she felt nothing.

The first thing she saw was the stained white of the hospital ceiling. Thick brown hair traced the bottom of her vision. It was a man, embracing her. He seemed... normal? Average? Plain? Lightly tanned skin with a five o'clock shadow, dark hair, yellow button down, khakis– nothing stood out to her.

But he had to mean something to her, right?

She tilted her chin down the slightest bit, catching a glimpse of the other people in the room. There was a woman with striking red hair and weary eyes. Her sister, Alexis, with a little boy who couldn't be over the age of seven. And there was another man--

Her breath caught in her chest.

His slanted, dark eyes. Skin almost the color of the copper ring he wore on his long, delicate pinky finger. Everything about him seemed so... pristine. Perfected.

The man closest to her lifted his head and gently gasped. "Esther."

Esther.

The name struck something inside her; a deep, almost singed feeling. It sounded all wrong off of his lips. Too blunt. Something you'd miss in a crowded room. Yet it sounded so familiar

"E...Esther," she repeated.

"Yes, Esther!" He said it again, this time like he was talking to a child. His voice was laced with uncertainty and dread, like he knew what she would say next.

"What happened?" She whispered. she moved her arms to push herself up, but was greeted with a sharp pain in her left shoulder. She winced.

"Here, let me--" the other man said, rushing to her side and adjusting the pillow to support her shoulder. "There." His hand lingered on her shoulder and sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm Weston," he whispered with a weary smile.

He simply kept staring at her face. "You look so tired," he whispered, the ghost of the voice he spoke with just seconds before.

"Jonathan, I'm gonna need you to let go of her hands."

Jonathan.

It was so familiar it gave her chills.

And then it happened.

Blurry memories of dates, nights watching movies together, anniversary cards--

Empty syringes on the bedside table.

She pressed herself to the wall behind her. "No. No no no no no no no."

—

For Weston, her wild eyes told the whole story.

He could see it; the betrayal, the fear, as if her thoughts were dripping out of her eyes like tears.

"Okay, I'm gonna need all of you to leave the room for a bit," he sighed, just wanting to get Jonathan out without being obvious. The red haired woman held the little boy's hand and led him out of the room. Jonathan glared as he held the door for them.

He sat at the foot of the bed. "Esther Cross?"

"That's me." She seemed to have relaxed a bit after Jonathan left the room.

"So Esther, your boyfriend there says you were shot in the shoulder during a road rage incident." She scoffed at this.

"We weren't on a road."

"Then what happened?"

She brushed a but of hair out of her eyes and started to talk. "I don't know if my memory is working well, but I found a syringe in the drawer beside his bed."

"I see. And..."

"He's done drugs before. Mostly meth, I think he said. So I was worried, ya know? So I grabbed a ziploc out of the kitchen, slipped it into my purse, and I was gonna bring it to the police station. I don't have a car. So I was about two blocks away when I heard someone running behind me, and well... that was it."

He narrowed his eyes. "That's it?"

"Yeah. I mean, that's all I remember right now."

Weston closed his eyes and sighed. "After you were brought in here, we found traces of heroin in his system." Her eyes drooped. "We thought that it was because of you, stress and whatnot. We had no idea he'd done it before.

"So he went in and out of rehab. They said it was easy to break his habit. He was in for about two and a half weeks."

"What--"

"It's been a month. You've been in here for a month."

Esther slid down to lay flat.

"I hate to say this, but could it have been Jonathan?"

"What?"

"Could he have been the one behind you, and, well..." he made a gun with his fingers.

She shook her head. "No! No. It couldn't be. I mean, he-"

She glanced outside the window. Jonathan was leaning against the glass, watching them. Trying to see what they say.

"He can read lips," she muttered through her teeth.

"Huh?"

"I said, he can read lips."

She looked back out again. He was already halfway out the door.

—

Six months later, Jonathan was about to go on trial.

Esther had moved in with her sister as soon as she had healed enough to be discharged. The house was fairly crowded– Alexis, Esther, Alexis' husband Aaron, and their little boy– but it was nice. Comfortable.

Esther gazed into the mirror in her room and fiddled with her jacket. She never dressed this nice, but she figured she had to look put together for this occasion. After all, it had changed her life.

All of a sudden, her phone buzzed on the table a few feet away from her. She leaned over, grabbed it and held it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey! It's Weston."

She laughed. "I know your voice now, you don't have to keep saying that."

"Anyway, I'm outside. Should I come it, or..."

"Sure! Come in." She put her ear to her shoulder to keep the phone as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm almost ready."

"Okay. See ya."

She put the phone down again, made eye contact with her reflection, and took a deep breath.

Weston appeared behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Are you ready?"

"Y...yeah. I am."

"Then let's get this out of the way and start again."