Shoot Me Down

Part 3

The woods are dark, and slightly fuzzy.  I trip over rocks and kick at broken bits of tree branches as I make my way along the path. Yellow lights shine into the trees, party light glowing from the windows of the house. Music is thumping, and cars roar up in front.  People screech and yell at one another, raucous laughter penetrates the silent forest. I emerge from the trees, staggering past the fence, using one hand against the scratchy boards to steady myself. A small metallic beeping comes persistently from my purse. Nakia probably, asking where I am. I ignore it. My head swims. I'm riding a wild merry-go-round and I want to get off.  The vodka burns in my throat, and it feels like someone's built a small fire in my chest. It could be anger or heartburn, or both.  My body is shaking, eager to confront them. I want to scream at both of them.

            I march up the stairs, ignoring a couple of boys leaning against the railings. They run their eyes up and down me, look away. Smoke wreathes them and clings to me as I push past them and into the house. People crowd in a clump of humanity in the center of the hardwood living room. Writhing, dancing, limbs sticking out of the crowd at odd angles. One girl falls out of the crowd and lies on her back on the floor, laughing as her friends try to help her up.

            Where are they? I push past people, uncaring, elbowing anyone that gets in my way. A tall girl with brown hair and heavy blackeye liner shoves me back, and I almost fall over, head spinning. I push forward, ignoring her.

            They're in the den. Caleb sits at the table with his friends, all guys, all seedy looking. In my blurry state I recognize only one of them. A slouchy looking guy with tattoo sleeves up both arms. Larry, I remember. He looks bleary eyed, snorting and rubbing at his nose. A pile of multicolored plastic chips sits in the center of the table. A poker game.

            Nakia is leaning against the back of Caleb's chair, staring at his cards and giggling, and when I see them like that a flash of anger goes through me like an electric shock. Everything I've been planning to say flies out of my head, and I charge across the room and yank on her arm. She staggers sideways, looking shocked, "Bree – what..."

            "Don't call me that!" I blurt out, and my eyes flood with tears. "You don't have the right to call me that!"

            The music and laughter from the next room is the only noise now. The den has fallen silent. A couple of girls who'd been laughing and joking with the poker players leave the room quickly. Caleb stands up, throwing his cards onto the table."What's wrong, babe?" He starts to reach for me and I knock his hand away, "Don't you dare touch me, you asshole! I can't believe I gave you a key to my house. Give it back."

            Caleb glares at me and crosses muscular arms over his black t-shirt. "What the hell are you talking about, Bree?"

            My gaze darts from him to Nakia, stomach clenching. Tears make the faces around me fuzzy, skin colored blobs.  I wish my head would stop spinning so I could see straight, "You two!" I scream at them, "You're planning to rob me! You've been cheating on me."

            Caleb smirks. "Wow, you must be really drunk."

            I can feel my face turning bright red, and I scream, "Give me back the key, you dick!"

            Nakia backs up and stands behind Caleb, her eyes wide, like she thinks I'm going to attack her. One of the guys walks to the door and shuts it in on a crowd of curious onlookers. Suddenly I'm nervous. I want witnesses. I want people to see what happens.

            I turn to Nakia. Just looking at her sends a shock of anger and betrayal through me,

            "You were supposed to be my friend!" I launch myself at her, screaming and flailing wildly. Nakia stumbles backwards with a shriek, and then Caleb jumps forward and seizes my arm roughly, jerking me backwards and away from her.

            "Stop that!" He lets go of me as soon as I stop trying to get to her. When he looks at me, there's no guilt on his face. He knows what he did but he doesn't care.

            "You asshole!" I scream at him, grabbing onto his jean pocket, trying to shove my hand inside. He jumps back swearing and I leap for him again. "Where's the key? Give it to me!"

 Caleb puts one hand out and pushes my shoulder roughly, and I stagger backwards, shocked. His poker friend's laugh, and someone calls out, "Ditch the bitch!"

            Why didn't I see this side of him before? I can't believe I was ever stupid enough to like him. Anger and alcohol fuel me, pumping self-righteous hatred through me.

            I scream wordlessly and fly at Caleb, swinging my fists. I want to hurt him. I want to see him bleed. Again he shoves me back, and I nearly fall this time, hitting my shoulder on the wall. Nakia cries, "Caleb, don't!"

            It's a stupid thing to do, but I'm angrier than I've ever been in my life. I charge again.  Everything is a blur, but in that second I realize Caleb has a gun in his hand, a silver pistol, but I've got too much momentum and I'm mad as hell, and the pistol can't possibly be loaded. We crash together, and I hear Nakia scream, and a crack reverberates through the room and makes my ears ring.

Someone punches me in the stomach. It burns and I double over, sticky warmth spilling out onto my hands. I can't seem to catch my breath.   Crimson liquid is soaking my white sweater, spreading outwards. What happened?

            Someone is holding me up, Caleb I think. All I can see is the white stucco ceiling, yellow from water damage in the corners.  My vision is swimming in circles. My body is sliding sideways and the room tilts and sways. When I hit the ground it makes no noise. In fact, there is no noise for a few seconds. Someone has turned the music off.

My body doesn't feel right.  It's like it belongs to someone else. My hand twitches, dragging through a pool of sticky warmth.

            Faces swim into view and far away someone is screaming repeatedly without pausing for breath. One of the faces says, "Shit! I just meant to scare her off," But the words are garbled and deep. Stretched like taffy.

            Someone's crouching beside me now, sobbing. A girl. I think it's Nakia.  Her hair hangs down around her face and she's crying. Why is she crying? She reaches down and touches my arms, touches my hair. She's repeating the same phrase over and over but I don't understand it.

 The hollow feeling of shock is familiar. It reminds me of the river, and I resolve that after this, I'll visit the spot where Sam drowned all those years ago. I haven't visited him in a long time. I should have visited.  There are three faces above me. I don't recognize any of them, so I turn my eyes up to the ceiling, to the boring white stucco.

            The river. I can almost hear it in my ears, chuckling softly, calling me away. My eyes drift shut.