Witness
Chapter One; Olivia
The street emptied, like water draining from a sink, the quiet came too quickly.
“Come on, Libby, what are you waiting for?” Her voice echoed around my champagne dizzy head. She hadn’t noticed the drop in temperature or the sudden eeriness of the street we had walked a million times.
“We need to-“ I paused, my stomach like a rock. “I’m scared.”
“You’ve just had too much to drink, our apartment is less than two blocks from here, come on!”
She stepped off the curb and her eyes swept into the side street where she froze, eyes locked on something in the dark. I moved to her side as a loud bang ricochet off the buildings around us. My eyes were searching to see something, anything, in the dark. But there wasn’t time.
“HEY!”
Our hands couldn’t find each other as we ran; it was just one foot after the other, hot tears rolling down our faces, and great heaving breaths. I screamed as I was tackled to the ground.
“RUN!” I screamed, kicking and swinging my arms as he came down on top of me; He hit me again, and again, and again. I was praying that she was getting away; I was praying she would be safe. I tasted blood as he punched me in the face again, and again, and again. He took a fistful of my hair and lifted my head only to slam it back down, cracking the back of my head against the pavement. I coughed and gagged on blood as I tried, still, to fight him off.
After another crack of my head on the pavement I let my head lull to the side and I watched her running. I thought it would have been okay if I died, as long as she was okay. But then one of them grabbed her.
In my head I was screaming for her, “Run, Ren! Get back up and run!” but my mouth was full of blood. I was helpless to do anything as my attacker rose to his feet; I knew I would die. My blurry eyes watched him pull a gun from the back of his jeans.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
The next thing I saw was the face of a police officer, leaning over me, saying something again and again. I was dipping in and out of consciousness. I said nothing to him as the tears rolled silently down my swollen, bloody, face. There were flashing lights and sirens. My chest felt hot and sticky. People rushed around me. They were lifting me onto a stretcher to load into an ambulance. I wanted to scream for Renae, I wanted them to find her. But even breathing sent the pain washing across my whole body. I cried silently and tried not to move.
The police officer took my hand, “You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay”
My head was foggy when I woke, I looked around the room. My boxes were half unpacked, my curtains were open so the sun streamed in and I could see the ocean crashing against the sand. My hand swept over the bandage on my chest and my fingers trailed softly over the bruises that still covered me. It was just a dream, I remembered, it had been two months.
“Renae!” I called out as I heard the sound of smashing glass.
“I’m okay, Libby! I just, I just dropped a glass it’s fine!”
I climbed slowly off my bed, slipped my feet into my slippers and walked slowly out into the kitchen of our new house. Renae stood surrounded by broken glass and open cardboard boxes.
“Ren, you should have waited for me to help you.” I moved slowly, it took all my energy to move one of the open boxes up onto the counter.
“Libby, you got shot in the chest three times, I can handle the kitchen.”
I looked up to meet her eyes; they were surrounded by dark circles and I knew she still wasn’t sleeping. She had taken a beating much the same as I did, save for her attacker didn’t shoot her, but they beat her with a baseball bat. She had three broken ribs, stitches across her forehead, and about a million bruises over her body.
“I’m not the only person who was injured, Renae. I am perfectly capable of helping with the kitchen.”
“Did you sleep at all?” she whispered, sorting the cutlery into the top drawer.
“I slept, but I just dreamed it again.” Every night since it happened I dreamed about it. “Did you sleep?”
“Not a wink.” She sat down on the floor, careful not to sit on the broken glass.
“You need to sleep, Ren, we are safe here. Take your pills, please, and get some rest.”
“I’m scared.” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.
“Take the pills, you’ll feel better after some sleep, I promise.”
“Come on, Libby, what are you waiting for?” Her voice echoed around my champagne dizzy head. She hadn’t noticed the drop in temperature or the sudden eeriness of the street we had walked a million times.
“We need to-“ I paused, my stomach like a rock. “I’m scared.”
“You’ve just had too much to drink, our apartment is less than two blocks from here, come on!”
She stepped off the curb and her eyes swept into the side street where she froze, eyes locked on something in the dark. I moved to her side as a loud bang ricochet off the buildings around us. My eyes were searching to see something, anything, in the dark. But there wasn’t time.
“HEY!”
Our hands couldn’t find each other as we ran; it was just one foot after the other, hot tears rolling down our faces, and great heaving breaths. I screamed as I was tackled to the ground.
“RUN!” I screamed, kicking and swinging my arms as he came down on top of me; He hit me again, and again, and again. I was praying that she was getting away; I was praying she would be safe. I tasted blood as he punched me in the face again, and again, and again. He took a fistful of my hair and lifted my head only to slam it back down, cracking the back of my head against the pavement. I coughed and gagged on blood as I tried, still, to fight him off.
After another crack of my head on the pavement I let my head lull to the side and I watched her running. I thought it would have been okay if I died, as long as she was okay. But then one of them grabbed her.
In my head I was screaming for her, “Run, Ren! Get back up and run!” but my mouth was full of blood. I was helpless to do anything as my attacker rose to his feet; I knew I would die. My blurry eyes watched him pull a gun from the back of his jeans.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
The next thing I saw was the face of a police officer, leaning over me, saying something again and again. I was dipping in and out of consciousness. I said nothing to him as the tears rolled silently down my swollen, bloody, face. There were flashing lights and sirens. My chest felt hot and sticky. People rushed around me. They were lifting me onto a stretcher to load into an ambulance. I wanted to scream for Renae, I wanted them to find her. But even breathing sent the pain washing across my whole body. I cried silently and tried not to move.
The police officer took my hand, “You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay”
My head was foggy when I woke, I looked around the room. My boxes were half unpacked, my curtains were open so the sun streamed in and I could see the ocean crashing against the sand. My hand swept over the bandage on my chest and my fingers trailed softly over the bruises that still covered me. It was just a dream, I remembered, it had been two months.
“Renae!” I called out as I heard the sound of smashing glass.
“I’m okay, Libby! I just, I just dropped a glass it’s fine!”
I climbed slowly off my bed, slipped my feet into my slippers and walked slowly out into the kitchen of our new house. Renae stood surrounded by broken glass and open cardboard boxes.
“Ren, you should have waited for me to help you.” I moved slowly, it took all my energy to move one of the open boxes up onto the counter.
“Libby, you got shot in the chest three times, I can handle the kitchen.”
I looked up to meet her eyes; they were surrounded by dark circles and I knew she still wasn’t sleeping. She had taken a beating much the same as I did, save for her attacker didn’t shoot her, but they beat her with a baseball bat. She had three broken ribs, stitches across her forehead, and about a million bruises over her body.
“I’m not the only person who was injured, Renae. I am perfectly capable of helping with the kitchen.”
“Did you sleep at all?” she whispered, sorting the cutlery into the top drawer.
“I slept, but I just dreamed it again.” Every night since it happened I dreamed about it. “Did you sleep?”
“Not a wink.” She sat down on the floor, careful not to sit on the broken glass.
“You need to sleep, Ren, we are safe here. Take your pills, please, and get some rest.”
“I’m scared.” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.
“Take the pills, you’ll feel better after some sleep, I promise.”