The Boy Who Broke Me

Feathers

MADISON

The guy yelling at Bennet doesn't even notice us at first. In fact, it doesn't look like he or Bennet realize we're here until I'm practically between them and the car. I know I've never seen this man before, but I can immediately tell that he's almost a perfect stereotype of someone you should stay away from. He's got a shaved head, tattoos everywhere, and he's sweating. Whatever he's shouting at Bennet doesn't register with me, but I can feel the hot words cutting through the air like knives. He's pale, and there's a blue vein bulging on the side of his neck with every word he spits. Sweat has soaked the down the front and sides of his shirt, making it wet, and I can see little droplets of it falling off his head to the ground.

He's so out of control that I can practically feel anger radiating off from him. I don't know how this started, but I know that something terrible is happening. Suddenly I feel stone sober and a horrible sinking feeling in spreading inside of me, pulling me down like the Earth's gravity just became stronger.

Is he actually being robbed?

The thought enters my head like this is something so foreign it can barely register. That could never possibly happen to me or anyone that I know. Crime is something that you see at night on the TV or in the news, it's not something that happens right in front of your face.

At least not to me. At least not until now.

Each passing second pushes me down and forces the realization that what I'm seeing isn't going away. It's almost like watching something so unbelievable that you have to ask yourself, is this really what I'm seeing right now? Like when you're just a freshman and Bennet Larson asks you to be his girlfriend. Is this really happening to me?! I shut my eyes tight, praying that when I open them this will all have been a dream. I squeeze as hard as I can but when I open them again the world is still the same as I left it. Bennet looks terrified, but when I reach out for his hand, he steps backward away from me.

The man is still shouting at Bennet, but I can't understand what he's saying because everything sounds garbled together like we're underwater. That, and Emily is talking too. I feel scared and naked with a hot nauseating surge of panic starting to crawl up inside me, making me feel like I'm going to scream or vomit.

This isn't real.

The feeling inside of me rages so strong that I know what's about to happen even before I see it. I open my mouth to say something, of what I'm not even sure. Maybe it's "stop", or "wait", or "I'll give you my phone and my purse", or "please no", or anything else. But when the flash explodes in front of me, I know what's happened, and I hear the sound so loud that it silences the entire world. For a split second I try to convince myself that maybe just a firecracker went off. That this was only a stupid firework and not the sound of a gun, but I know that I'm wrong.

I shut my eyes just before a warm fine mist explode into my face, covering my eyelashes and coating my hair. The moment feels like I'm watching through someone else's eyes because everything happens in slow motion. When I open my eyes again, I can feel the wet droplets on my lashes, blurring my vision.

Bennett brings his hands up to his chest as he staggers a few steps backward. Cash starts to slip through his fingers before slowly fluttering to the ground, wafting back and forth as it falls through the chaos and the atmosphere. The money weaves down to the Earth so slowly, it looks just like feathers being plucked from a bird. Standing frozen in time, I spend an eternity watching them cascade down to earth, each one dotted with tiny droplets of shining wet blood. I know it's stupid, but my mind goes on autopilot and takes me back to a memory of being a kid at summer camp the night somebody broke open a down pillow.