Agoraphobia

Day 3 (Loft 6E)

In the morning, Abigail drank the last two eggs and washed them down with cold tea. I ate a hamburger bun and drank bathtub water. I borrowed Dad's flashlight. Then Abigail and I headed to loft 6E.

Abigail knocked firmly on the door.

"Why knock when you have the key?"

"The man who mugged us might be living with someone. Also, this might not be his apartment." We waited a full minute, but no answer. We could see a tiny sliver of light under the door, but no movement to indicate someone was looking through the peephole. Abigail unslung her axe and banged it on the door. Still no answer.

Abigail put the key into the lock and opened the door without entering. "Anyone here!?!" she called out. "I'm Abigail, your new neighbor. Anyone in this loft?"

Silence.

Abigail snapped the key ring onto her belt and slung her axe onto her back. We walked in. The layout was similar to my family's loft, but with the windows and sunlight on the opposite end, where the hall and bedrooms were.

We entered the kitchen and found it fully stocked.

"I don't see anything from the food court," observed Abigail. "He might have stored it in another room. Why don't you find a trash bag and start loading up the lighter stuff? I'll check the back." Abigail left the kitchen and moseyed down the sunlit hallway. There wa—

"Freeze!!" shouted a man at Abigail. My heart leapt into my throat as I spun around. I could see Abigail. She was looking down the curved hallway, and her hands were half-raised.

"Hold on there, Mister," cautioned Abigail to someone further down the hallway where I couldn't see. "We didn't realize anyone was home. You don't need the gun. I'm your new neighbor, Abigail. I live in loft 6B."

"Who's with you!?!" barked the man. An involuntary shiver gripped my spine.

"I'm with Samber. She's Scarlett and Jerry's eleven-year-old daughter from loft 6A. She—"

"Tell her to come where we can see her!!"

Abigail looked at me. "Samber, stay where you are."

"I'm giving the orders here!!" bellowed the man.

"I understand if you're feeling anxiety. These are anxious times... I assume that's your wife. The woman I see behind you?... Hello, ma'am... Do you and your husband have agoraphobia?"

"We can't leave this room," blurted out a woman's voice. "Can—"

"I'll handle this!" snapped the man.

"Don't be embarrassed. Most people seem to be afflicted with agoraphobia. I, myself, am unable to leave the building. So I suggest we tr—"

"Come here!"

"Pardon?"

"Come in here! Move forward!"

"Why?"

"I'm placing you under citizen's arrest for breaking and entering."

"We didn't 'break' in. We used a key after—"

"I don't care!! Do as I say!! Come here now!!"

"That's not going to happen. Why don't you holster your gun so we can talk about this?"

"NO!! You broke into our home and tried to steal from us! I'm completely in my rights to shoot you!"

"We didn't know this was your home. We don't even know who you are. Apparently, we came to the wrong loft. We th—"

"I don't care!! Come here RIGHT NOW, or I'll shoot!"

"That's not—"

BANG!!!!!

A person being shot in real life is much different than how it's depicted in movies. One difference is how LOUD real guns are. They don't "pop". Bullets are propelled by controlled explosions. And that's what they sound like - explosions. Very LOUD explosions. As loud as a jet engine.

Abigail's shooting was as ugly as it was unnecessary. Her neck ripped open. She clasped her hands over the wound in a futile effort to contain the gushing blood. Her eyes bulged. Abigail went into a seizure and slammed, face first, into the stone floor - dead.

I stared down at the pool of blood widening under my friend's body. My heart thundered against ribs. I was rooted in place. Paralyzed by the unfathomable horror I'd witnessed. A few seconds earlier, Abigail was a living, breathing person, and now she was dead. It just didn't seem real. The tinny and sickly-sweet rank of the blood hit me. It smelled like moldy brown sugar mixed with an old jar of pennies. My head was swimming. I started hyperventilating. Little black dots danced in front of my eyes.

The man and woman down the hall were screaming at each other. But I couldn't make it out because my ears were still ringing from the blast.

Suddenly, I regained control of my legs and darted out of loft 6E.

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