Out of the Darkness - Bethlee (little bear else holmelund minarik txt) 📗
- Author: Bethlee
Book online «Out of the Darkness - Bethlee (little bear else holmelund minarik txt) 📗». Author Bethlee
Chapter 1
Michael
My book crashed against the wall of my study cubicle, causing a small ding in the library’s wall. Next I threw my notebook. How was I supposed to concentrate when all I could think about was Amelia? Studying was impossible, I just caught myself using my Biochemistry notes to try to find an answer to my Gross Anatomy questions― again. It was inevitable; I would flunk out of my first semester of medical school if I kept this up.
No matter how hard I tried to stay focused, my mind wandered back to this afternoon in lab with Amelia. Her laughter had echoed through the otherwise sterile room when I’d dropped the freshly prepared slides of three weeks’ worth of research in the sink. Any other lab partner would have blown up at such a clumsy accident, but not Amelia.
She rolled her eyes, shook her head and restarted preparing the slides. “Come on, Michael. I’ll share my honorary title of Drops-A-Lot with you.” She said as she winked at me.
“Don’t worry I’ll never take your title. After all, you hold the world’s record.” I had felt a surge of relief from her banter.
The never ending patience and understanding was what made Amelia. . . Amelia. These were only two of the millions of reasons I loved her. I needed to tell her, I wanted to be her boyfriend, not her best friend, not her bro; her boyfriend. But that was where my courage stopped.
Why couldn’t I just jump naked out of an airplane or wrestle an alligator? That would be much easier than telling my best friend of eighteen years I’m in love with her.
My stomach grumbled, when I leaned back in my chair and stretched. It reminded me of my plans to meet her around eight o’clock at her favorite Chinese restaurant. Her fundraising committee was supposed to be finished with their meeting by then.
A strong breeze blew across my face, sucking the library’s outer doors from my hands as I opened them. The early December night was chilly. I pulled the collar of my thin jacket up around my neck and wished for a warmer coat. The few remaining leaves on the trees rustled in the wind, but I paid little attention.
Afraid of sounding like a bad rendition of a soap-opera, I trudged through the deserted parking lot rehearsing the best way to tell Amelia how I felt. The furthest I got was “Hey, Amelia. You look great.” After that, I was stuck.
When I was a few yards from my car, a vehicle screeched as it entered the parking lot. My keys were stuck in my jacket’s pocket and I was preoccupied with dislodging them, but I looked up as the screeching came uncomfortably close in the otherwise quiet night. A large white van plowed towards me. Moments before it could run me over, I dove out of its way, landing hard on the cold pavement and scraping my hands.
With adrenaline pumping through my veins, I pulled myself up and sprinted to my car. As soon as I threw the car door open, someone yelled my name from the van.
Expecting to see a friend leaning out of the van’s window and laughing at the joke, I turned toward the source of my name. Instead, I heard a blast and felt my chest explode. Staggering, I grabbed the opened door. I felt another burn slash across the side of my head. The next shot I didn’t even hear. Fire ripped through my body as I collapsed into my car.
*
A foggy haze enveloped me, trapping me where I lay. There were two things that held my attention. First, I no longer felt any pain. My whole body felt frozen as if I had been dumped into an ice chest. Second, an angelic voice was singing out to me, pulling me toward it.
“Michael, Michael . . . can you hear me? Michael.”
It was the voice I longed for. It was my Amelia.
Amelia, of course I can hear you.
My frozen body was not cooperating as I attempted to look at her. How did you get here? Be careful! There is a maniac with a gun!
“Michael, wake up! Michael! Please!” Her voice was no longer singing—it was pleading. “Michael, please wake up!” Her body heat radiated against my face as she cradled me in her arms. Her
gentle hands carefully examined my wounds.
Can’t you hear me?
She didn’t respond. Then I realized I wasn’t vocalizing the words, so of course she couldn’t hear me.
“Hang on, Michael. Please don’t leave me.” Her voice broke as she tried to catch her breath. “I need you.”
Of course, Amelia, I’ll never leave you.
Suddenly, I seemed to be two people. I was outside the car, watching her hold my lifeless body in her arms. Torn between wanting to reach out and comfort her and terrified by the fact I could see myself, I could only observe as she gently laid my body across the front seat.
She took her cell phone from her back hip pocket and punched in some numbers. “What! No signal. Come on.” She threw her phone down on the pavement. “There has to be something in here to help you.” After looking under the front seat, she hoisted herself upright. “Oh, my lord. Michael, what did you do?” Using only her fingertips, she held a gun by a corner of its grip.
Amelia, have you lost your mind? Where’d that thing come from? Get rid of it! Now!
She grimaced as if she were holding a snake instead of a gun.
A laugh erupted from behind my car, causing my spirit to quiver. Amelia’s first reaction appeared reflexive. Spinning to face the direction of the laughter, she screamed into the night. Remembering the gun in her blood-soaked hands, she struggled to bring it up and fired into the night sky, aiming at nothing. Then she turned and ran away.
Get out of here, Amelia!
I ran with her, leaving my car and my body behind.
*
Death was not what I expected.
Bright lights were supposed to illuminate my pathway after I died, but I didn’t see any. Instead, I found myself trapped in a nightmare, one without smells, tastes, or textures―only visions and sounds. Horrible images of Amelia that I could not control.
Covered in my blood, Amelia ran to the campus’s nearest security office. She crashed through the door and flew from cop to cop as she yelled. “Michael’s dying. There was a gun. I tried to help him, but I shot at the laugh. He’s covered in blood. Help me.” She grabbed the closest cop and tried to pull him to the door.
The cop yanked out of her grasp and pulled his gun. “Put the gun down on the floor and then put your hands up in the air. Now.”
Amelia looked down at her hands and realized she was still holding the gun. Flinching away from the gun, she dropped it on the floor and stepped back. “It’s not my gun. I found it in Michael’s car.”
Forget about the gun! You have to help her, help me. I’m dying.
I positioned myself between the cop and Amelia.
The cop kept his gun trained on Amelia. “It doesn’t matter whose gun it is, I said put your hands up.”
Amelia turned to face him. “What? We have to help Michael. He’s dying.” Her voice echoed my thoughts as she took a step forward and reached for his arm.
“I said, put your hands up and stay where you are.” He spread his legs as if he were preparing for a fight.
Are you crazy? You’re not going to attack her.
I threw myself at him, only to have my spirit fall through his body.
She threw her hands up over her head. “Okay. Alright, my hands are up.”
Another cop handcuffed her and led her to a dimly lit room where she sat at a table with two chairs. After ten minutes of silence, two detectives arrived from the nearby Southside Precinct. One silently stood by the door while the other sat at the table in the chair opposite Amelia. He placed his folded hands on the table and said. “Amelia, I’m Detective Madison. Can you tell me what happened? They said you shot someone named Michael.”
Are you an idiot or just stupid? Let me spell it out for you. She did not shoot me.
I yelled in his face.
Amelia shook her head and exhaled as she threw her cuffed hands on the table. “No, that’s not what I said. I shot at the laugh behind us. It scared me. Michael was shot before I got there.”
“Where did you get the gun? Is it yours?”
“Of course not. I hate guns. Listen, we’re wasting time. We have to help Michael. Don’t you understand? He’s dying.” She stood and walked toward the door.
Come on let’s get out of here. As soon as they see my car, they’ll know you didn’t shoot me.
I glided with her to the door.
“Sit down Amelia. You ran in here holding a gun and covered in blood. You’re not going anywhere. Besides, officers have already inspected his car. His body wasn’t there, but there was plenty of blood. After we check you for gun powder residue and finger print you, I bet our theory will be confirmed.”
My body is missing? How? We were just there.
I moved to the wall as I tried to steady myself.
Amelia shook her head. “What? I don’t understand. Gun powder residue? Finger-printing me? Where’s Michael?” tears flowed from her eyes. “I already told you I shot the gun, but I didn’t shoot him.”
“That’s for a jury to decide. You have the right to remain silent. . .”
Amelia dropped her cuffed hands by her side and stared at the floor as the officer read her rights. Softly she whispered to herself. “But I didn’t shoot Michael. He was my best friend. But I guess I killed him, trying to save him.”
Chapter 2
Michael
That became my life, or rather my death.
I hovered in a corner and watched as they finger-printed Amelia. Afterwards, they placed her back in a dimly lit room, where she paced its diameter as she waited for them to confirm that her bloody fingerprints were all over my car. Two hours later, they escorted her in a squad car to Southside’s precinct.
The entire time, she appeared to vibrate. She only stopped shaking when the metal door slammed shut, locking her into a cell. That’s when tears started flowing down her cheeks. Unable to control herself, she wrapped her thin arms tightly around her chest and sank to the floor. There she stayed for the next three days, refusing to eat, sleep or talk.
The morning of the third day, a female officer opened her cell door. “Get up. You need to change out of those blood stained clothes.” She held a uniform out for Amelia. “Come on, I’ll take you to the showers so you can clean up a bit before you change.”
Without saying a word, Amelia followed her to the jail’s showers. After five minutes, Amelia reappeared
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