Flecks of Sun

I was mentally transported back to last year when at a meeting with my close friend, Emma, she relayed how in Bangkok she had been beaten-up and robbed on her walk home. It was unexpected and she had called in her brother for advice on how to prepare for if it happened again. He said it was your body’s fight or flight response, but you also had to mentally prepare.

My mental preparation was that memory. I remembered over the months that passed since the incident her passing tidbits into our conversations about how if you’re caught off guard what you can do to defend yourself. I was scrambling to think now.

People were shouting around me and running. Bullets were not flying in the air; they were hitting people who fell into the street as crimson blood painted the streets. I panicked and I froze. My ankle was better but it was still healing and running was out of the question. I had tested my physical limits a few days ago and realized the ATFL ligament was still too tender to put too much pressure on it in order to propel myself forward. Still, I tried.

I got a few paces and had to stop. It hurt too much to even force. I couldn’t fight, flight was the option, but where? Some people had dashed into cafes or stores to hide, others were pouring out of them into the chaos. How many gunmen were there? Had seconds ticked by or minutes?
My phone had fallen in my initial attempt to get away. I heard a scream behind me and looked over my shoulder. A woman was ganged upon by two gunmen who riddled her body with three shots. There was no protocol for what to do. I was in the middle of a terrorist attack and my body was beginning to seize with panic and fright. I threw myself into a run and ignored the searing pain in my ankle.

Just run, damn it, run.

I kept imagining the woman who had been shot and if that was me; was she bleeding out? My scarf to help me against the cold had become loosened as I ran. As it almost slipped off my neck, my fingers grabbed it and I was overcome with thought of the woman. I could hear glass windows shattering behind me as I saw an alleyway coming up. I turned left into it and saw it connected to the other street. I ran through it and down the street before zigzagging my way back to where I was. The adrenaline had caused me to not think of my ankle, as I kept pushing myself until I could see the woman in my sight. Her blood was pooling around her jean jacket and she was convulsing. I had no medical training and whipped my scarf from my neck and ran to her. As soon as I crouched I felt my ankle snap and muffled my cry. I applied pressure to where I could see one wound in her chest, when a man saying he had paramedic training was beside me, removing her jacket and helping. I had to stand. The pressure from crouching and putting my entire weight on my ankles was too much to bear. I felt selfish as a woman lay beneath me, probably dying.

“DUCK!” a voice screamed.
In slow motion, in mere seconds my eyes took in the figure of a gunman who was still at the sight and aiming with no pause. I was too slow to react and felt a pressure hit my chest as I fell backward. The deafening noise around me ceasing as I felt cold and my head thudded against the pavement.

“She needs attention…”

It went black and this time there were no colors of green and red.

*
I needed a flight immediately. I knew no details would be coming in as it was still unfolding. The details only mentioned multiple gunmen, a metro attack, the Louvre, and neighborhoods overrun. In other words, it was coordinated and a massive assault.

Naturally, no flights were going into Paris because of what was unfolding. Luckily, there were other cities to fly into and getting a ride from there. I was panicking and my nerves were not at ease. I fumbled with my cigarette, had promised to quit, but it was a hard habit to knock.

My phone rang, I checked the caller ID. “Mige.”

“Hello?” I rolled my introduction, surely aware of what he wanted to discuss.
“Have you seen the news?”
“Of course,” I said agitated.
“Have you spoken to Em?” Mige asked and it dawned on me.
With everything happening so fast, I hadn’t told anyone what had happened yet. My primary concern was to get to Paris and quickly. She could be dead… The thought made me ill. I was imagining our first encounter quite a few weeks ago, and now surmising that like that she could be out of my life. I was also anxious as she was already recovering from an injury.

“Mige, I have to have this quick and to the point. I need help arranging a flight –“

“I’m sure Em is ok. Don’t panic too much, it is not good for your asthma…”
“We were on the phone when it happened!” I snapped.
“-there was screaming and it went silent.”

The emotion I’d been holding in, broke me. We weren’t dating and I had not conducted the affair of whatever we had well, but not being able to see her again or hear her laugh. Even if we were just friends, it would be unworldly to just have her become a ghost in my life. Mige listened in silence and told me he’d call me back to give me a few minutes.

My search for flights and cars was a disaster. My eyes half-blinded by tears and my mind running a thousand meters ahead of time were a bad mixture for clarity. Mige called again.

“I’m okay now. I’m trying to orchestrate a plan,” I told him as my index finger scrolled the flight options.

“I’ve spoken to my friend Aake. He owns a few private plans and can arrange for you to get Beauvais airport and from there arrange a taxi to get you into Paris. The problem is that he can’t fly out today as France has their terror alert marked. However tomorrow he should be able to attain permission and with all else you’ll be in Paris in two days at the maximum. I know you’re worried but France has to contain the situation before everyone descends upon it, also looking for people they know.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime? I can’t watch the news; it will give me anxiety.”
I was unaccustomed to dealing with the situation. Terror attacks had been spreading around the Union for the past two years but I had never been personally affected even though it was tragic. I still cared about the countries, cities, and people who experienced it but when you were in the situation it raised your blood pressure ten-fold.

Mige inhaled and said quite easily a suggestion I had not thought of. I was pondering how to reach out to anyone who knew Em in the city when Mige’s suggestion provided a contact with someone who would know what I didn’t.

I didn’t even finish the call before I was dialing Lis.

**

Whenever I had been under anesthesia or unconscious, I could recall colors or faint moments of light. This was blackness of nothing to remember until I came to abruptly. I was still on the ground, I felt the hard and cold cobblestone beneath my body. I was cold and I managed to raise my hand up into the light, trying to grasp at any sense but immediately had the notion to play dead. If anyone spotted me alive, I would be gone. Is this how it ended?

My blood decorated my hand entirely. I felt my body soaking in it. Was I on the verge of going? I could feel the blackness creeping on me and I couldn’t estimate how long I had been out for or for how long. My hand was still raised partially when I felt the instant connection of another palm against mine and my body stiffened. I could barely make out colors or shadows. I groaned. I had no energy within me anymore and terror consumed me in such a way I had never known and the tension within my physical being met my spiritual being.

“Hold on, we’re going to get you some help,” the voice said but it sounded far away.
I then felt a pressure on my chest and wanted to scream out in pain but as I opened my mouth it was just gurgles and more blood on my face. The coldness was coming faster than earlier and I didn’t know if I closed my eyes again, if they would open. I forced every energy in my body to stay awake, to stay aware but the darkness still came for me anyways.