I Can't Forget What You've Forgotten
Sixteen
Zacky could feel his breath get caught in his throat as he froze, horror stricken while her limp body fell to the ground. The breath his body had involuntarily held in caused him to grow stiffer by the minute as he stared, unable to comprehend quickly what had happened. He was taken back by shock.
His eyes slowly and reluctantly tore away from her body, trailing its way up to the middle-aged man. The man's eyes were uncertain, appalled, and filled with disbelief, but behind the gray eyes, Zacky could see the darkness lurking behind him. He was staring into the eyes of a psychotic murder.
His head slowly turned and looked at the firearm, held up in the air by the killer's hand. Zacky could feel his body slowly begin to breathe again and soon, he was taking quick, deep breaths to regain the loss of oxygen. The world started spinning again and everything came rushing back to him as he realized what had happened.
Panting and feeling the anger rise in him, Zacky took a step forward and ran towards her without a warning, startling Mitchell. Panicked and reacting all too quickly, Mitchell ran through his house and out the front door, thinking that it was him that Zacky was charging after. He threw the car door open, got in and sped away.
Zacky knelt down on the grass next to the body, not caring if splotches of green were staining his favourite pair of jeans. He tried to hold the tears back as he struggled to breathe normally, frantically checking over her body. Fumbling around with something in his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed for the police.
Though unconscious, her shoulders slightly rose and sank with every shallow breath her lungs took in.
"I need the paramedics, now," he commanded into the cellular phone, trying with all his efforts to keep his voice strong and free from wavering. He quickly gave the address of the house and threw the phone aside on the grass.
Near hysterics, he took her lightly by the shoulder, resting a hand underneath her neck and pulling her into his lap. A tear fell as he stroked her face, ignoring the crimson red blood that was beginning to soak her hair. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered, his voice quivering. "Everything is going to be fine," he tried to tell the unconscious girl.
He held her close and cried silently, until the paramedics came and took her away to a nearby hospital.
Outraged, Cassie vigorously pushed the van door open and slammed it shut, striding quickly across the large parking lot and over to the automatic doors of the hospital. She didn't bother to wait for her boyfriend, Jimmy, and the rest of Avenged Sevenfold to run after her. They fell a few steps behind as she continued on past the reception desk and towards the waiting room.
"What happened to her?" she screeched when she saw Zacky sitting in a chair, with his elbows on his knees and his head in the palm of his hands. She grabbed his shoulder and forcefully pushed him. "Why didn't you look out for her?"
He abruptly stood up from his seat and moved away from her, pacing around with his fingers locked in his hair. "I did!" he exclaimed. "But is it my fault that her boss is a fucking psycho?" He stopped and stared at her as she stared back.
"What happened?" Johnny ran up to them with the others behind him. They waited quietly, staring back between Cassie and Zacky, expecting an answer.
Zacky sighed and turned to Cassie. "She told you that someone was stalking her, right?" She nodded. "Well, she said after you got mad at her for trying to tell you, he came up to her and invited her over for a 'discussion' and he hinted at her to bring me. She could've brought you but you were upset with her and she didn't want to put you through..." he trailed off. Should he tell her about Krystal's night job?
"Meeting him," he continued weakly, trying his best to cover. "So, she begged me to come with her instead." He looked down at the ground and leaned against the wall.
Cassie stepped forward, whispering, "Did she know this was going to happen?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, but I think she must've known that something was going to happen." He avoided all contact with her and stared down the opposite hallway, watching the room that the stretcher pulled her through.
Cassie studied his face skeptically, growing more suspicious as the silent ticking moments passed by. "You're hiding something," she accused him, narrowing her eyes. He shook his head and he hand lightly hit his stomach. He flinched, using his hand to cover over it. "What is it," she demanded to know.
A pair of hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her away from him, giving him some space to move about. Zacky continued to glare at the wall and left, wandering aimlessly around the hospital corridors.
"Just leave him alone for a bit; we'll find out later." Jimmy's voice soothed her, the sound soft and low. Her tensed shoulders eased up as she nodded, turning to him as he pulled her closer. She buried her face into his chest and took in a deep breath, before she broke out into a heaving sob. The only emotion she felt was pain and fear for her best friend.
What was going to happen to her? The doctors had said that the injury was severe, and it wasn't a guarantee on whether or not she'll survive.
Zacky strolled through the entire hospital, not caring where his feet carried him. He kept his head low and his hands in his pockets, not daring to look up at anyone else. He only allowed his eyes to unleash his fury onto the white tiles on the floor- if not, the white walls and the white ceiling above.
He will turn Mitchell in and he'll make sure that the police catches him soon. There was no way that he would let them take their time at finding some psychopath that had no doubt, killed dozens of other young women in his lifetime. He'll make sure that the man spends the rest of his life behind bars, for as long as he and the band live.
His legs took a turn of its own into the men's restroom, where he kicked over the stalls with all his strength, releasing his pain. He resorted to hitting the automatic hand dryer and paper dispenser, before leaning on the porcelain sinks, staring into the large mirrors. He tried to hold back a cry as he stared at his reflection, pale and unlively, before he released a sob.
This would be the third time that he would lose her, and he prayed for anything but that. He couldn't handle the thought of losing her permanently, and ever forgetting her.
His eyes slowly and reluctantly tore away from her body, trailing its way up to the middle-aged man. The man's eyes were uncertain, appalled, and filled with disbelief, but behind the gray eyes, Zacky could see the darkness lurking behind him. He was staring into the eyes of a psychotic murder.
His head slowly turned and looked at the firearm, held up in the air by the killer's hand. Zacky could feel his body slowly begin to breathe again and soon, he was taking quick, deep breaths to regain the loss of oxygen. The world started spinning again and everything came rushing back to him as he realized what had happened.
Panting and feeling the anger rise in him, Zacky took a step forward and ran towards her without a warning, startling Mitchell. Panicked and reacting all too quickly, Mitchell ran through his house and out the front door, thinking that it was him that Zacky was charging after. He threw the car door open, got in and sped away.
Zacky knelt down on the grass next to the body, not caring if splotches of green were staining his favourite pair of jeans. He tried to hold the tears back as he struggled to breathe normally, frantically checking over her body. Fumbling around with something in his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed for the police.
Though unconscious, her shoulders slightly rose and sank with every shallow breath her lungs took in.
"I need the paramedics, now," he commanded into the cellular phone, trying with all his efforts to keep his voice strong and free from wavering. He quickly gave the address of the house and threw the phone aside on the grass.
Near hysterics, he took her lightly by the shoulder, resting a hand underneath her neck and pulling her into his lap. A tear fell as he stroked her face, ignoring the crimson red blood that was beginning to soak her hair. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered, his voice quivering. "Everything is going to be fine," he tried to tell the unconscious girl.
He held her close and cried silently, until the paramedics came and took her away to a nearby hospital.
Outraged, Cassie vigorously pushed the van door open and slammed it shut, striding quickly across the large parking lot and over to the automatic doors of the hospital. She didn't bother to wait for her boyfriend, Jimmy, and the rest of Avenged Sevenfold to run after her. They fell a few steps behind as she continued on past the reception desk and towards the waiting room.
"What happened to her?" she screeched when she saw Zacky sitting in a chair, with his elbows on his knees and his head in the palm of his hands. She grabbed his shoulder and forcefully pushed him. "Why didn't you look out for her?"
He abruptly stood up from his seat and moved away from her, pacing around with his fingers locked in his hair. "I did!" he exclaimed. "But is it my fault that her boss is a fucking psycho?" He stopped and stared at her as she stared back.
"What happened?" Johnny ran up to them with the others behind him. They waited quietly, staring back between Cassie and Zacky, expecting an answer.
Zacky sighed and turned to Cassie. "She told you that someone was stalking her, right?" She nodded. "Well, she said after you got mad at her for trying to tell you, he came up to her and invited her over for a 'discussion' and he hinted at her to bring me. She could've brought you but you were upset with her and she didn't want to put you through..." he trailed off. Should he tell her about Krystal's night job?
"Meeting him," he continued weakly, trying his best to cover. "So, she begged me to come with her instead." He looked down at the ground and leaned against the wall.
Cassie stepped forward, whispering, "Did she know this was going to happen?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, but I think she must've known that something was going to happen." He avoided all contact with her and stared down the opposite hallway, watching the room that the stretcher pulled her through.
Cassie studied his face skeptically, growing more suspicious as the silent ticking moments passed by. "You're hiding something," she accused him, narrowing her eyes. He shook his head and he hand lightly hit his stomach. He flinched, using his hand to cover over it. "What is it," she demanded to know.
A pair of hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her away from him, giving him some space to move about. Zacky continued to glare at the wall and left, wandering aimlessly around the hospital corridors.
"Just leave him alone for a bit; we'll find out later." Jimmy's voice soothed her, the sound soft and low. Her tensed shoulders eased up as she nodded, turning to him as he pulled her closer. She buried her face into his chest and took in a deep breath, before she broke out into a heaving sob. The only emotion she felt was pain and fear for her best friend.
What was going to happen to her? The doctors had said that the injury was severe, and it wasn't a guarantee on whether or not she'll survive.
Zacky strolled through the entire hospital, not caring where his feet carried him. He kept his head low and his hands in his pockets, not daring to look up at anyone else. He only allowed his eyes to unleash his fury onto the white tiles on the floor- if not, the white walls and the white ceiling above.
He will turn Mitchell in and he'll make sure that the police catches him soon. There was no way that he would let them take their time at finding some psychopath that had no doubt, killed dozens of other young women in his lifetime. He'll make sure that the man spends the rest of his life behind bars, for as long as he and the band live.
His legs took a turn of its own into the men's restroom, where he kicked over the stalls with all his strength, releasing his pain. He resorted to hitting the automatic hand dryer and paper dispenser, before leaning on the porcelain sinks, staring into the large mirrors. He tried to hold back a cry as he stared at his reflection, pale and unlively, before he released a sob.
This would be the third time that he would lose her, and he prayed for anything but that. He couldn't handle the thought of losing her permanently, and ever forgetting her.