Anchor (Book 1)

Chapter One

First, I heard nothing. Then, all the sounds came to me in an overwhelming wave; first, the commotion, then the footsteps, then finally, the bang of a very large, loud gun. When all was calm again, I heard an unusual sound, dripping. I quickly realized it was the sound of my own blood rolling down my thigh and onto the kitchen floor beneath me.
They were perpetual droplets, developing their own rhythm; one, two, three.
It had been a good fight, but clearly, I had lost.
I tried to stand up, but my wounded leg made it impossible, sending a painful surge into me. So instead, I gathered just enough strength to sit up.
My eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight that ricocheted off the shutters, and like pulling off a lense cap, everything came into focus; the disaster became crystal clear in front of me. Chairs were flung about, the table had been overturned, and every piece of my mom's beloved china was shattered. I heard sirens outside, and soon after, police entered the house, followed closely by medics. I hadn't recalled dialing 911, so maybe it was the action of a concerned neighbor. The matter was trivial amid everything else.
A female paramedic rushed to my side immediately and started performing standard procedure. She asked for my name and I answered her hoarsely, "Nat-"I coughed and continued, "Natalie Coleman." She proceeded to ask me if there were any other victims present. I shook my head. My mom was out running errands thankfully.
"Miss, are you able to speak?" An officer who'd just entered the room asked me.
"Yes." I answered him in the same hoarse voice.
"Can you tell us what happened here today?"
My mind was swirling around and right now, I could barely distinguish up from down, but I tried my best to recall the events that took place just a few minutes ago.
"There were multiple men," I started, "maybe a woman- they just barged in- like, out of nowhere. I couldn't see any of their faces."
For a moment, my mind flashed back to the blurry faces of my attackers and my wild hands grasping at them, trying to fight back.
He nodded. "Anything else?"
"They had a gun." I continued. That I remember vividly; the way it had fired and how they took off running.
My eyes floated downward to my leg. "I think I was shot."
The medic that had come to me first examined it a little closer.
"Yep," she confirmed, "a bullet went straight through your shin. You'll need surgery to take it out, but I'll bandage it up for now. You were lucky, sweetheart." She pulled a long bandage strip from her bag and made a tourniquet.
Minutes later, I was being transferred to the hospital. I thought about my parents and how upset they would be when they received the news. As the ambulance whipped past the cars beside us on the road, I felt as if I was in a dream. I felt calm and at peace, so I shut my eyes.

I opened them to a beautiful wide open pasture. The wind flowed through my long, auburn hair. It was warm and there was no need for the jacket I had on, so I let it slide off my shoulders and fall into the tall grass surrounding me. Behind me, birds chirped a cheerful song. I smiled. I liked it here in the space my subconscious had thought up. I spotted a figure off in the distance. I couldn't make out all the features, but I knew it was a girl, rather, a young woman just by the way she walked gracefully and lightly on her feet. As she came closer, my heart filled with joy because I now knew who she was. She was just as I had last seen her except her chocolate brown hair had been cut off to a short bob and she appeared angelic. She called out to me,
"Natalie." Her voice was soft. She stopped a few feet from me.

I tried to run to her, but it seemed that with every stride, she still remained out of my reach, drawing back to where she had come from.
"Melissa!" I exclaimed, "I can't get to you!"
I took another meaningless step towards her, yet she kept getting further away.
"Melissa!" I screamed. Her figure was fading now.
"It's not your time." She replied and it echoed loudly through my mind.
I called out to her once more, but received the same reply, "It's not your time."

The voice of Melissa's slowly morphed into my mother's and my eyes snapped open. I was greeted by tubes, monitors, and cords. My mother was at my bedside, hands folded, praying.
"It's not your time." She sobbed, "It's not your time."
I put my hand over hers. She looked up. Her green eyes were shadowed underneath by deep bags and the smudges of mascara about her face indicated she had been crying. I tried to lighten the mood by cracking a joke, which she didn't find funny. Instead, she scolded me saying, "This isn't funny. What about this do you think is funny? Watching your daughter die and come back in front of your eyes is terrifying, terrifying as hell, Natalie!"
She resumed the position she had been in when I woke, her head in her hands, except now, tears seeped through the gaps. Guilt swept over me; she was right as she always was. Truth was, I was scared. Who had attacked me, and why? As far as I knew, nobody had a problem with me anywhere, at least not an intense enough one.
I glanced over again at my mother, who met my gaze for a moment and then slowly got up and slipped out the door. I let her go, hoping she'd go home and get some rest. Now it was me alone in the hospital room, so I allowed my thoughts to take over once again. The confusing part of the whole situation was why they had spared my life. They had the tools, strength, and all the advantages to commit the deed quickly and maybe even enough to stump the police for a few months. Yet they left me unconscious and with a wounded leg that I'm not even sure was meant to happen. Maybe this was a spur of the moment sort of rush they wanted to feel, or maybe they wanted me alive so they could torture me more. I drifted off to sleep with these curious thoughts in my head.
The next morning, I was awoken by two voices.
"Maybe we should let her sleep."
"Yeah, maybe we should come back later."
"I will let her know that you guys came by. It's really so sweet of you."
I opened my eyes slowly and gazed towards the door at the huge flower bouquet that was looming suspended by two sets of hands. Behind them, my mom smiled, "Look who's awake after all."
"Hey Natalie, I hope you're doing alright." A voice said from behind the bouquet.
"Yeah, because Mr. Cook just assigned a major group project in school today and I don't have a partner." Another voice, also from behind the giant flower arrangement, agreed.
"Hey guys." I greeted my friends Jen and Anthony.
Simultaneously, they poked their heads into view.
"Surprise!" They screeched. "
Anthony set their gift on the table near the door while Jen gathered two chairs and set them on the side of my bed. She plopped down in one of them and smiled. After a while, her face fell.
"Nat, I can't do this," she exclaimed, "I mean, the tubes, the cords, the smell, your leg!"
"I'll be alright, Jen." I reassured her just as Anthony took a seat.
I glanced over at the boy I've known forever and noticed that besides a red streak now in his bleach blond hair, he was Anthony again. He was finally recovered. I'm glad he was able to find love again and I owe all my thanks to Jen. If it wasn't for her, well, I honestly don't know if Anthony would be alive.
A nurse entered the room and informed them that visiting hours had ended, so they left, but not before mentioning they'd be back soon. I didn't have a whole bunch of friends, but I was grateful for the ones I had.