Random short stories

The Girl in the Café pt 2

1 year after the shooting

I can't get her out of my head. I see her everywhere, in the faces of my coworkers, the strangers on the bus. And yet, I have not seen her at all since the shooting. 

She everywhere and nowhere all at once

Her words still haunt me. 

"Until next time."

What does that even mean? Who is this girl and why cant I get her out of my head? 

My therapist says that after experiencing a traumatic event the mind clings to a detail. He says that because she saved me, my mind uses her to block the other details. He gave me pills to help with the nightmares, but I don't take them. I don't want to forget her face. 

Where are you?

I need you. 

I need you.

I NEED YOU.

I must find her. 

My therapist says no. He says that finding her will only make it worse. He is wrong. 

I need a new therapist. 

I walk down the street, breathing in the crisp autumn air and hearing the crunch of leaves under my feet. Everything is so quite, still. I watch as the sun rises over the empty street, painting the sky with a thousand colors. I gaze at the sky, letting it swallow me whole. 

Consume me with your color.

Something slams into my shoulder.

"Watch where you're going, will you?" A woman says. She is wearing an olive green jacket and ripped skinny jeans. A mass of curly red hair hangs down her back, swinging gently as she walks away.

"Wait!" I call after her. She stops and turns around, looking annoyed. 

The vibrant green eyes. The freckles. The nose. The lips. 

It's her.

"You." I whisper. "You came back. Who are you?" 

She grabs my arm and pulls me into the ally. "Do you really want to know?" 

"More than anything."

"Then we need to go." She says. The girl grabs my hand and leads me to a car on the other side of the street. She starts the car and sighs.

Turning to me, she whispers gravely, "Do you believe in angels?"