lemon's curse h.s.

the end of the beginning

emmalyn.

A gunshot.

From inside the restaurant.

The loud, horrifying sound is followed by a chain of screams and shouts until I hear the most distinguishable one, "Hands on the ground! Right now!"

My hand remains stuck on the doorknob, the other one shaking incessantly, and I turn around to make sure I wasn't just imaging what I heard.

Behind me, I see everyone's paused figure, their eyes pointed towards the door, their faces contorted with concern and terror. A short moment is spent in pin-drop silence, where even the outside noise is completely inaccessible.

I make eye contact with the waiter who brought me to Neil and Harry, and he seems completely mortified, the plate in his hand shaking erratically.

And then, all hell breaks loose.

The staff engages in worried and hasty chatter as a crooked line forms by the door, in front of me, and everyone is excessively impatient to get inside and see what happened. The man in front, one of the chefs, thoughtlessly pushes me to the side, muttering a profanity, before opening the door and entering inside.

Through the small opening, I see at least six policemen pointing their guns towards a hidden figure; a man, in a police uniform, lies on the floor, his eyes closed and blood spread all over his torso.

He was shot.

A policeman got shot.

I see all the customers back up into a corner, some of them crying, some of them pale with terror and worry, and two of them even praying.

As much as I don't wanna believe it, I know Neil and Harry had a part in this. There's no coincidence they were trying to get out of here so quickly, they must've known the police was coming.

What if the police are after them?

But then who just show the police officer?

I have to get out of here; if they're here looking for Neil and Harry, they'll think I'm an accomplice or something. I was the last person seen together with them, and even if I don't know anything, I'm sure the police will think otherwise.

I step back and take another look at the body on the floor as more of the staff enters the restaurant.

My heart hammers against my chest the more I look at it.

There's an innocent man dead on the floor all because he was trying to do his job.

Before I know it, hot tears start to fall down my face, my vision blurring, but I'm still unable to take my eyes off his body. Bringing my hand to my mouth, I shake my head a little, moving backward, a part of me hoping I'll somehow just disappear.

"Listen," someone suddenly grabs my arm from behind, making me flinch.

It's the waiter from before, "I think you should get out of here. The police will start questioning everyone and it'll be best if you're not here."