Suddenly There Is Love

It was a warm summer morning, and I was on my way out to get the morning paper. As I walked outside, I took a deep breath of fresh air, which tasted sweet - almost like apples - red apples. I opened my eyes, and a butterfly flew right past my face, and I smiled. I thought to myself: "This will be a good day!" Slowly I started walking, and it did not take long before I had to open my jacket and put on my sunglasses - the sun was so strong, it was actually hurting my eyes.
"Hello. Hi!"
I was greeting everyone I passed. It was truly a good morning, and I was glad I had taken the day off from work. Even the thought of sitting inside in the office on a day like today was miserable. "Poor Matt," I thought to myself and smiled. Certain I was looking like a fool, smiling to myself I turned a corner and headed towards the newspaper stand. Matt is my best friend and colleague. We have known each other since kindergarden, and believe me: he has been there for me in ups and downs. You really don't want to know... Ok, I can tell as much: I was extremely drunk this one night, and I did loads of stupid things, and I said loads of stupid things. Everything seemed at its darkest: and he was still there! Matt should have joined me today, but he is awaiting one of his yearly weeks of fever (it is weird, I know, but he knows exactly when he will get sick, and it lasts a week), so he did not want more days than nessesary from work.

I reached the newspaper stand and bought today's edition of the Washington Times. I paid for the paper and walked towards the Starbucks across the street. Of course my coffeemachine had chosen today of all days to not work, but I had taken a deep breath, simply to stop it from ruining my perfect morning.
"One black coffee, please," I said, and the young boy behind the counter smiled.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
He had a very distinct American Accent, which is something I definately do not have.
"Is it really that obvious?" I asked, with humour in my voice.
No, I was not from around there. I was born and raised in London, England, but I moved to Washington when I was 20 years old, and Matt had decided to join me. I paid for my coffee, and tipped the boy a little extra and walked out on the street, and went to the nearest bench and looked at al the people walking by. While sipping my coffee, I noticed all the strange things people do when they think they are not being watched. A young girl was picking her nose while riding her bike, an old man scratched the crack on his rear-end and a middleaged woman was gaping her mouth while putting on mascara. I smiled to myself - as I had been doing all morning - and unfolded my paper. The headline read: "Another body found." I sighed, and noticed chills going down my spine, while wishing someone would catch this serialkiller. There had been insane hysteria in town lately. Five blonde young women in their mid-twenties had been found brutally murdered. They said on the news that the very best in Washington were working on the cases, but there were no suspect as for now. I knew I was safe - I am a brunette, and that is not something the killer finds attractive.

I stood up, and threw my now empty coffeecup in the nearest dumpster, and I continued on towards the bank. Since this was one of my very rare days off from work, I had decided to take out some money from my savingsaccount, so that I could buy a new outfit for the company party coming up the following weekend. I have had my eyes on this one dress for quite some time: it is purple, with white laces and a golden waistband. I almost fell as I took a wrong step on the first flight of stairs up to the gigantic oak doors which welcomed me to the bank, but I managed to catch my balance before I fell.
"You alright there, mam?" an older man asked. He had gotten hold of my elbow, and was supporting me.
"Oh, I'm fine. Thank you," I said to the man, nodded and entered the bank. This particular bank is the largest one in Washington, and apparently also the warmest one. I removed my jacket quickly, and found myself feeling sorry for the employees who were working in this heat. I walked to the end of the line and waited patiently for my turn. It was as I put my sunglasses in my purse I heard the shots being fired.

Panic, screams and crying was all I heard after the single shot had been tired. "Is anyone hit, who has the gun?" These were the thoughts running through my head, and I was too shocked to even bother screaming. Everything was moving in slow-motion, which I knew must be some weird self-protection system the body decided to start.
"Get the fuck down on the floor," a male voice screamed, and during the next five seconds, everyone but three masked men were one the floor.
A little boy right next to me was sobbing gently in his mother's hands, and she was desperately trying to calm him down. Besides the sobbing, there were no sounds at all - until a man started walking towards the counter, and the terrified woman behind it.
"Get me my money," he whispered to her. I could hear what he said, simply because I was close to the counter.
I looked over at the mother with the boy, and I mouthed: "We'll be fine!" to her. I am not sure she believed me though, because the look on her face was defeated. I quickly glanced around at all the other people, and every single face shone of panic - and fear. I do not think my face had the same expression as theirs, because I was in too much of a shock to realise what was going on.

The two other men were walking among the scary faces, making sure they were all sitting still and not trying to get out of the bank. All of the sudden the one man kicked a man straight in the stomack.
"You dare try calling the police, eh?" The man then spit him in the face, before kicking him again.
The intense silence was back, and the lady behind the counter had found a key, and she was claiming that it was the right key.
"If you fool me, lady, I will shot you right in the head - right in this spot," he said, and pointed the gun to her left temple. She shivered and squealed, before slowly nodding.
It felt like forever, before one of the men walked after the woman and the other man to see what was taking so long. The man left in the bank was holding his gun steadily, pointing it at anyone who moved or said a word. My purse was lying right next to me, and the man was so far away, I could easily put my hand inside it, reach for my telephone and call 911. I slowly moved my hand to unzip my purse. It made a little bit of noise, but the man didn't notice it. I was watching him intently, and managed to get a hold of my phone. Concentrating real hard, I pressed the first button - hoping it was the number 9. A small beep came from my purse, and I closed my eyes, hoping no one had hear it. I found what I thought was the number 1, right before I felt something cold being placed at the side of my head.
"Who are you trying to call, bitch?" the man who had fired the initial shot said, and I could feel the sneer on his face.
I did not look up, but I did take my hand out of my purse and laid them in my lap. I didn't say anything, and the barrell of the gun that first felt cold was burning my skin. I closed my eyes, and felt myself stop breathing.
"I said, who are you trying to call?" The barrell pushed against my head.
"No one," I said with a weak voice, trembling.
"WHO?"
"911."
"Now, why would you be so stupid to be calling 911, huh?" he asked and he made my head tilt from the gun pushing against my head.
I didn't dare breathe, nor open my eyes.
"Sorry," I said easily, but I jumped as the man quickly sat down on his knees next to me.
"Hey guys, we've got us a brit over here!" the man called to the others, before turning to me." I've always found British to be an exciting accent. Why don't you talk a little for us?" I was absolutely stunned, and I could definately say I was looking more shocked than any of the other people in the bank by now. I simply stared at the man in disbelief, and I felt the tears making their way down my cheek.
"No? You don't want to?" The man stood up, and finally took the gun away from my head, and I let a sigh of relief escape my lips.

This could not be real. Here I was, sitting in the middle of a bankrobbery, and I had already upset the men by trying to call 911. We were about 20 people inside the bank, and thankfully only one was a child. I would not want this for any child. I did not really want this for anyone, but definately not a child. I was paralysed from the gun-against-my-head ordeal, and I was staring stiffly straight ahead. The one man came out with one bag that had been filled, and I was guessing it was filled with money. Minutes passed, and nobody said anything or did anything. We could might as well not have been there, we were so quiet. That was until a too familiar song was playing - and the song was chiming from my purse. I panicked completely and ripped open my purse and found my phone. It was Matt - he was finished at work, and I was sure he was calling to check if we were on for coffee. I quickly hit the accept call button, and I heard Matt's familiar voice as the phone was kicked out of my hands, and someone grabbed me by the neck of my sweater. I was pulled to my feet, and dragged over to a more deserted area of the room and the man threw me away from him and pointed his gun at me. His eyes were fiery with anger, and he was spitting as he screamed.
"Do you want to get yourself killed, bitch?" The man was shaking with anger, and I was certain that I had lived my final day on earth. I closed my eyes, and threw my hands across my face. I heard movement, and then silence. Was I dead? Why did it not hurt? I slowly opened my eyes, only to find a complete stranger of a man standing in front of me with his arms outstretched. I could not remember seing the man in all the frightened people, and all I know was that he was risking his life by standing at that exact spot.
"Now, you don't want to do that, dude," the gunman said.
"No, it's you who don't want to do that. Leave her alone. Get your money, and leave all of us alone," my savior said.
"You're stupid, man. Really stupid. I would have thought of you as a wiser man, with the expensive suit and all." the gunman sounded amused now. Up until the point where he punched the man with the expensive suit, and he lost his balance and fell down right in front of me. I quickly moved to put myself over his face, and stared hopelessly into the gunman's eyes.
"Please," I begged.
Without as much as a word, he kicked the man lying down in the stomack and turned.
"You take that bitch's phone," he told one of his accomplices before returning to the vault of money.

I helped the man lying at my feet up in a sitting position and pulled a papertowel out of my sweater pocket. I carefully started patting away the blood that was running from his right brow.