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I’m Sorry
Also by David S Reynolds
I’m Sorry
For some reason all she could hear was ringing in her ears. She could not understand why she smelled fireworks in the living room or why her arms were so heavy. Through a haze she could see him look at her with a look of shock, a growing stain spreading across the faded shirt she had given him for a birthday years ago. His lips formed two words before he fell face first on the floor.
“I’m sorry.”
As she looked at him on the floor she realized that the growing pool coming from under his body was his blood. She watched as the blood slowly spread across the floor like a lava flow threatening to burn all in its path. Reality seeped in further as she saw that a small pistol was in her hands even as she could not recall how it got there. A small voice in her head told her to leave and run but she could not. The world turned into shades of gray, everything in black and white. Everything but the crimson pool slowly spreading across the floor.
She managed to pry the pistol from her hands and it dropped to the floor without a sound. As sensation slowly returned, she could feel tears running down her face. The tears stung as they reached a cut on her cheek. The AC came on and blew away the haze created by the gun smoke allowing her to see the scene clearly. Somehow she even saw herself as though she were simply looking at a picture, not even a part of the grizzly tableau. His body lay face down on the floor in a pool of blood in the kitchen doorway. She saw the blank expression on her face as she stood ten feet away, pistol at her feet.
The voice whispered in her ear again to run and she tried to obey, but her legs would not answer the call. She was enchanted by the patterns created by the growing pool of blood on the floor, slowly traveling up and down the grout lines. In her mind’s eye she kept re-playing the moment just before he fell, seeing him speak but not being able to hear the words. A new sound broke through the ringing and broke the spell, the distant scream of sirens. The voice joined in with the screaming – RUN!
Finally she listened to the voice and obeyed. She flew out the back door and over the fence into the ally and ran without looking back. She didn’t know how long or far she ran but when she stopped she had a feeling of déjà vu. She turned around slowly and found herself in a park that looked familiar, almost like a childhood dream that she knew happened but could not bring up any details.
Across the field, she saw a teen boy that looked familiar. She tried to get his attention, hoping that she did know him and could tell her where she was. As she limped over to him a detached part of her brain tried to remember why she was limping. She looked down at her legs and saw a piece of glass stuck in her right leg just below the knee. Panic gripped her throat and she tried to shout at the boy and tried to ask him for help. But he would not acknowledge her for his attention was drawn elsewhere. He only had eyes for a girl sitting on a bench not too far away. She also looked familiar. The girl could have been her younger sister, but she did not have a sister. He walked over to the bench and sat next to the girl and they started talking. It looked as though the girl did not know the boy. A strange cool fell over her as she watched the boy put his arm over the girls’ shoulder. She turned away from the scene, troubled but not sure as to why.
Across the street from the park was a diner that should not have been there. Confused, she hobbled over to it with the hope of finding help. When she tried to open the door she screamed out and almost fainted from the pain in her right shoulder. When the world stopped swimming she saw the couple from the park inside. At least she thought it was them. They somehow had managed to change clothes and looked a bit older and it looked as though they knew each other better. In a touching gesture, the boy reached across the table and took the girls hand. At the moment the boys hand touched the girls, she felt a warmth in her own hand and a long forgotten happiness in her heart that was not there before. The moment was shattered as she saw the girl take back her hand and flinch at something the boy said to the waitress. She tried knocking on the window to get anybody’s attention but nobody in the diner heard her cries for help. Despondent, she sank to the sidewalk and passed out.
She woke to the sounds of a church service. Somebody must have brought me here she thought to herself as she struggled to an upright position. Through vision blurred by tears of pain she was shocked to see that she was in the middle of a wedding. As her focus returned, she noticed the bride had a cast on her arm. The wedding guests did not notice her and a part of her wondered why she was left in the church at this vaguely familiar ceremony and why she had not been taken to a hospital. Another more detached part of her mind catalogued all the similarities to her own wedding, all the way to the cast the she wore after fracturing her wrist when she tripped walking in the park the week before with her fiancé. She couldn’t help but notice how happy the bride and groom looked, and she felt a pang of regret as she saw how they looked at each other with the promise of a fairy tale life with each other. Rather than disturb the idyllic scene, she quietly snuck out a side door and made her way to the street.
The street was empty. Some unknown force compelled her to turn left and drift down the street to an apartment complex. She heard happy birthday being sung and went to see if anybody at the party could help her. Through the apartment window she saw a young man open a birthday gift and hold up a shirt for the guests to see. The sight of the shirt took her breath away. She could see that he liked the shirt and he gave the young woman beside him a kiss. She tried to see who the young couple was but she could not focus on their faces. All she could see in detail was the shirt. While it was in better shape, it was the same shirt that he was wearing as he fell to the floor. Once again, tears blurred her vision. Yet the shirt remained in sharp focus, the geometric patterns and colors popping out in sharp focus from the rest of the scene.
She heard sirens coming down the street and saw a police car turn into the drive of a small duplex not far away. At last she saw people that would not be able to ignore her and that would have to help her. It took her longer than she thought it would to reach the duplex and when she did she could see a young woman sitting on the hood of the police car with an ice pack to her eye. One officer was talking to the young woman and the other officer was talking with a young man she assumed was the woman’s husband on the sidewalk. It was obvious that the officers were keeping the young couple apart. His hands were clenched in fists that looked rock hard. Even though she was closer to the young man she could not hear what he was saying to the officer but she could hear the other officer ask the young woman if she wanted to press charges. The young woman said no and she also told the officer she did not want to go to the hospital and asked them to leave. As they were getting into the car, she overheard one of the officers say that this was the third time he had been called to break those two up with the same result every time. After the police car pulled out of the drive the young woman went to the young man and he wrapped his arms around her, his hands still balls of fury. He looked through her towards the departing squad car with a cold look that turned her blood to ice. She recognized the look.
Once again she found herself blindly running; not knowing where she was going or how long she ran. The sounds of an argument and furniture breaking brought her to a halt in front of a house that looked like her own. Not sure why, she went through the
open front door to see what was happening. She was amazed at the picture she saw. It was a perverted picture of her own home. The usually organized room looked as though a bomb had gone off. She took in the broken TV, the screen shattered with drops of blood around the bits of broken glass. The dining room table was overturned. There was a hole in the wall at shoulder height.
She saw a woman that looked like an older sister to the girl in the park. Where the girl’s face was bright and full of life, the woman’s face was dull. She remembered how the girl carried herself with an attitude that could take on the world. This woman, in comparison, was worn down. Blood oozed from a cut on her face. An even larger gash on her right leg dripped blood on the floor. Her right arm hung at her side at an awkward angle, the shoulder covered in plaster dust. Like a light turning on, she recognized the woman.
She froze as she saw herself pull a pistol out of her purse and point it towards the kitchen door. She knew what was coming and tried to turn away but could not. The first thing she saw in the direction the pistol was pointing was a faded geometric pattern. Time stood still as her husband came out of the kitchen. The report of the pistol was loud and quiet at the same time. The smell of gunpowder burned in her nose. She looked and him and heard him speak.
“I’m sorry”
Again, she watched him fall to the floor. She looked at herself and whispered a single word; leave. She felt the cool breeze of the air conditioning as it cleared the smoke from the room. Why did her mirror image not move? What was wrong with her?
“Run now” she whispered at herself again.
She could hear a police car coming down the street.
“RUN! Get away! Run as far as you can!” she was horse from the screaming yet both versions of herself stood rooted to the spot.
She recognized the officer that came into the room as the one from the duplex that tried to get her to press charges every time he talked to her over the years. She saw the same sadness in his eyes that was there every time he came to her house. She was surprised by the tenderness he used as he gently pried the pistol from her clenched fingers. She felt relief as he quietly broke the spell and pushed her towards the door and the waiting paramedics. Just before her body left the room her consciousness and her body rejoined and she turned to her husbands’ cooling body and said two words.
“I’m sorry.”
End
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Also by David S Reynolds:
The Interview
Contracts of the Father
I’m Sorry
Spirits Last Vision
Futurecaster
The Eternal Question
The Second Coming
Aware
Don’t Press the Red X
Collections:
Quickies: A Collection of Short Stories
Essays:
A Burning Problem
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