Coffee Shop Tragedy

A Chapter by skratch

William is tormented by memories of his hellish past and tries to keep a grip on reality.

The green digital cells on the alarm clock read 2:03 A.M. No point in trying to sleep again. It would just ruin the rest of my day. The burning sensation that haunted my eyes in the early morning still remained. I ignored the pain as I stared at the ceiling, resting a hand on my brow. The black hair that sprawled across my pillow was soaked in cold sweat, possibly even tears. I thought to myself how my dreams were no friends of mine , the guilty conscience that clung to me like a second skin.

The dark barely hindered my sight any more; I spent so much of the night awake that it was almost as good as daylight anymore. Stepping into the hallway I felt the cold air rush me, halting any sweat drops that clung to the surface of my body. A dim light illuminated the otherwise pitch black hallway; my father was probably in the kitchen for some damn reason.

Flipping on the light switch in the bathroom I saw the familiar yet still disturbing flush pigment that filled my body. The dreams that haunted me these last four months were destroying me, tearing away my humanity and forcing me to abandon my emotions even more than I had before the incident.

Anybody that has seen me recently has assumed that I was taking to the Gothic sub culture, the pale skin and long black hair playing trademark. I suppose the fact that I either stayed in my room or the wilderness didn’t much help that fact. Reaching into the shower I turned on the water to full hot, stepping in as the steam instantly billowed, the scolding hot water hardly fazing me as my training had now led me to exposing myself to the furthest extremes of hot and cold. The pain from the shower would have signified my weakness fleeing my body, but the duo of the nightmares and my training numbed the part of me who recognized that pain.

The water pressure blasting into my hair was rather relaxing even with Her voice still resonating in the confines of my mind; I closed my eyes feeling the strands slide down the sides of my face. Falling back against the shower wall I ran my hand over my abdomen, finger tips tracing over the muscle definition formed from years of training and then the scars. The memories forced my eyes shut tighter, knowing that tears would make their futile attempts at birth.

September had marked mine and Lola’s ten month anniversary. We were sitting in a coffee shop that had opened about a week into November; it had become our favorite “hang out” since we had been together. It was a nice day to most people; I prefer the rain but the sun is nice at times. A rare zephyr coupled with the summer sun kept us cool even in its rays.

No one would have guessed such a nice day to carry such horrible events. At about 11:30 A.M. September 12, 2017; a man in a ski mask entered the shop.

The pleasant air that had filled the little shop was shattered as the man fired a shot into the ceiling tiles and began screaming commands over the panicked crowd. Lola and I had ducked under our table; unfortunately we were seated only four feet from the gunman.

“Every body stays calm and does as I say and hopefully we can get through this little withdrawal with out any body making a mess all over this lovely little shop,” the gunman yelled over the now quiet multitude, save a few whimpering women and crying children.

“Now we need a volunteer,” he yelled out over the crowd, sweeping his pistol over the masses like it really wouldn’t matter if it went off; the lives of others were obviously none of this man’s affair. He was either desperate or had made a habit of holding up small shops. Lola was suddenly torn out from under the table, screaming and beginning to sob from fright.

“Hey, hold up a second,” I said flying from under the table in the same flow as she was torn. “You said you wanted a volunteer right? Take me, please. I’m just as good as she is.”

“You’re kidding right? I think I’ll stay with the pretty blonde teenage girl who has so much to live for,” he said pulling her away from me as she struggled against his grip. I stepped across the ground, following her over the shattered mugs and bits of glass people had thrown from their path as they ran for cover. “Hey! You stop right there lover boy. Juliet here might make it as long as everyone does as I say right?” he barked at me aiming the gun over Lola’s right shoulder. Her face was soaked with tears, her words inaudible.

“Okay, I’ll stay right here. Just don’t hurt her, okay?” I submitted, backing away from the b*****d.

“You got it big shot,” he said looking back to the throng of sobbing innocents.

Without his noticing, the clerk behind the counter had made his way towards the cashier from the espresso machine. The terrorist spotted the cashier as he was only five feet from the security button located just under the cash register.

“HEY!” he screamed taking quick aim and firing a shot as the cashier dove for the button, landing with a thud that was accompanied by the pleasant sound of a quiet siren.

“You people obviously aren’t going to take me serious until I show you, just how serious I am,” the man said, turning the smoking barrel from the counter to Lola.

“NO!” I screamed at him. “PLEASE! JUST DON’T SHOOT! I BEG YOU!!”

“Sorry Romeo, looks like you two are the real pair of star crossed lovers,” the gun hammer cocked back ready to fire the next shot. Strength and hope were the two things Lola had retained through the months I had been with her, now they were failing her. I read her lips as the tears continued flowing.

‘I love you.’

I had never screamed so loud in my life, nor had I ever felt so much pain. This was our sanctuary, our coffee house filled with so many happy memories and that son of a b***h shattered everything we built in an instant. That sound, that smell would haunt me forever. The smell of blood and gun smoke is enough to make any stomach curdle, which only accentuated to anger and despair that invaded the joy I felt only 10 minutes ago. The bang muffled my screams as I dashed forward. Her body crashed against me as tears began to flow freely from my eyes for the first time since I was just a child. Sobs shook me so hard that every muscle in me seized and brought a sharp piercing pain.

Fists clenched around her broken body as I held her close just hoping that somehow she might live, even as her blood smeared across my tan skin and poured over my clothes. Her glasses had fallen and shattered on the ground in her struggle, she hadn’t really needed them to make her look any better as I thought she might when I first met her; she was always beautiful.

Pressing my lips to her forehead I said my goodbyes, wishing to follow her; she had been my reason for living, she was my only happiness. Laying her down, I wiped my eyes as I rose to my feet again. Every hair on my body stood up on end as my body filled with tension, my eyes burning as I stared at the person that had done this unspeakable thing. The heat rose over my body like a shore break with the force of a typhoon. Heat waves radiated from my body so strongly I saw them my self as they distorted my vision of the coward who was now aiming his pistol at me; it wouldn’t do him any good.

“She was the only thing that really mattered in my life, the only person who ever truly understood and agreed with me,” I whispered, not caring if he heard but just satisfied that the words were being said. “You destroyed something more beautiful than your mind could comprehend, with out a second thought, you just squeezed the life from her body. I can’t let you get away with such careless and selfish actions.”

I suddenly tore at him as he backed away, firing shots into my body as I sprinted across the debris strewn ground, the heat around me built as I closed in. The bullets tore into my numb flesh without my notice. As the dog was about to reach the door I threw myself at him, flying across the room and slamming him into the ground, cracking the granite tiles.

The gun flew from his grip as I shattered his hand with one stroke, another hit cutting his screams short as I crushed his jaw. The energy flowed through my body like a fire hydrant as I assaulted every inch of his body, cracking and crushing his bones with every hit. The people cowering on the ground seemed to have replaced the gunman with me as the idol of horror which struck out fear as they watched in terror, hearing the bones snap with every hit until there was nothing more to break.

Blood and tears mixed in the shreds of clothe which encased the lump of shredded meat. After twenty minutes of my tear filled assault, the police arrived, standing back shocked by what they saw, a blood soaked teenager pounding his fists into what looked like the discard pile of a butcher shop. Their commands were meaningless to me, some foreign language as I sat there doing the only thing that made any sense to me anymore.

Another length of time I couldn’t remember passed before the police had decided to attempt stripping me from the mutilated corpse. Five cops had to drag me away and pin me down, hog tying me with their hand cuffs. I was taken away to the station and declared unfit to be tried. The psychiatrists said that the traumatic experience must have driven me mad. I agreed to the six months of therapy and medication until declared rehabilitated. If only they knew. That man deserved to die, I still failed to punish him to the extent he deserved but they said that there was no way the man could have endured anymore pain after the first few strokes, the majority of the beating was a waste of my energy they said. I’d still like to have another go of it.