Buzz

Recollections of Valarie

Valarie's POV

"Michael, I'd really like to try their buffalo wings..." I said softly as we sat outside. I said it so softly outside a busy restaurant and next to a flooded street. Somehow he had an amazing ear when it came to disobedience. He always told me to order the salad.

He set his menu down and looked at me - glared at me. I swallowed the lump in my throat as his grotesque gaze steadied onto my eyes.

"Valarie, it's like you want me to do the things I do. Do you enjoy making me feel this way? Do you enjoy making me angry?"

I swallowed another lump, "But I-I just wan-"

He slammed one hand on the table and I flinched in fear. He was going to hurt me again when we got home. I bit my lip to hold back the tears. I was scared. No, I was terrified.
The scream came as a diluted mixture of relief and curiosity.

I turned to the street and saw a woman with blonde hair kissing another woman's next. I squinted to get a better look. Then I noticed the blood.
Was it a mugging?

A whole crowd of people started running down the street, screaming and crying. I turned to Michael and he looked just as stunned as I was.
A few seconds later people got out of their stationery cars - due to traffic - and started running between the gaps the cars left, abandoning their vehicles.

I stood up in panic. I suppose it's the effect of the crowd. All fleeing in the opposite direction, the direction away from where Michael and I were. My eyes scanned the tables around us - people trying to dial emergency services, some praying and some simply ignoring it.

"Michael, we need to leave", I urged him.

He gave me a bored look in exchange and I felt the most intense anger I had ever felt bubble up. Suddenly, there was a scream right behind me and I fell backwards onto the table. The woman behind me was being bitten by a man wearing an expensive suit.

I suppose I find it comforting to focus on the wrong things.

Someone yanked me over the table - but I knew it wasn't Michael. I just knew in my gut that it wasn't my husband trying to save my life. I looked up to my saviour's face - it was a man with dirty blonde hair.

Michael had brown hair.

He got me to my feet and we started running toward a bank - the closest building. People were ushering others inside in a panic.

While we were running I noticed the man wearing the expensive suit was chasing after us - sprinting after us. My heart raced in fear. My body vibrated in panic. When we got the door the people slammed it shut - even though there were still people outside. I heard their screams of anger, of fear and of separation all flow into one steady harmony of despair.

The others, the ones who were hurting everyone, were becoming too great in number. Well, that's what we were told in any case. I took in the surroundings of the bank, it was basically filled to the brim. People were crammed against the bright tiled walls - luckily the grand windows were too high up to touch.

We were safe for the time being.

There was movement in the crowd and Michael emerged, "Oh thank goodness, you found my wife."

I wasn't fooled. He wanted me dead, he didn't care about my safety. My saviour all but handed me over and started looking through the crowd, probably for his own family.
"God damn it", Michael muttered.