Chapter 7

Once they left there were screams and people were shouting to call 9-1-1. Kinsley and I were close and we could see there was no point in calling for an ambulance. Poor Mr. Feldsdon was crying and holding her and trying to stop the bleeding from this massive chest wound. He was begging her not to die and was sobbing. It was so sad.

Kinsley looked at me.

“Can you help?” She kept her voice low.

I swallowed and shook my head. She wouldn’t stop looking at me and then put her arms out, her hands on my shoulders, to force me to look straight at her.

“Embers,” she whispered, seeing my eyes fill with water, “I know you don’t want to do this, here, with everyone watching,” she looked quickly around and saw that no one was paying them any attention, “but if you don’t do this, you will never, never, forgive yourself.”

Tears now streamed down my face and I was shaking a bit, but her arms on my shoulders helped me keep it together.

I nodded.

Someone had taken her pulse and announced that she was dead, and someone had closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have that shocked look on her face. Mr. Feldsdon was inconsolable, his face buried in his hands, sobbing.

I moved closer to the table, closer to her. I thought I knew what this was going to cost me. I had no idea.

Closing my eyes, I began willing her back to life in my mind. I felt something, a connection, felt her fading further away. I gritted my teeth and scrunched up my face with determination, my eyes still shut. I had no idea that someone had their phone out and had started recording.

Again, I could see her sinking keeping into an abyss, begging for help, begging for another chance, saying she would change, she would be good, begging for just one chance. Further, she fell, despite my efforts.

Opening my eyes, I let out a scream as I’d never screamed before, from the depths of my lungs erupted this noise that dwarfed the jet airlines when they’d take off, making people gasp and back up and look at me with horror as blood seeped from my nose and eyes, streaking my face.

The windows nearest where I was standing shattered outward and panic ensued, but when the screaming ended, when the blood no longer flowed from my face, when Mr. Feldsdon stopped clutching his chest (I thought for a second that he was having a heart attack), and when everyone stopped looking at me, they saw Mrs. Feldsdon open her eyes and gasp and once again start breathing.

When the cloth napkins were pulled from her chest, there lay a bullet, some blood, and a closed wound.

I don’t remember anything after that. Thankfully, Kinsley was right there to catch me because I passed out and would have hit the ground hard I’m sure. As it was, the ambulance rolled in and took both Mrs. Feldsdon and me to the hospital. She was fine. I was unconscious.

To say that my life went from pretty quiet and normal for a teen to FUBAR (Dad’s favorite term for pretty fucked up) was accurate. Media circus? Thanks to Devin who had his smartphone filming everything, that video had more than a million views before I regained consciousness, which took a day and a half.

When I did open my eyes, Kinsley was right there. To be fair, Mom and Dad had been there for 24 straight hours and had just gone down to the cafeteria to get some food. When she saw my eyes flutter and then open, she gasped and started to come to hug me then said “Oh, the nurses!” and started to run out of the room.

“Wait,” I gurgled, my throat dry from a lack of water, and Kinsley stopped.

“Wait, please,” I whispered, now that I was sure she wasn’t running out the door. I saw her water bottle and nodded at it.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she started, but I cut her off.

“For fuck’s sake, gimme’ some water,” I growled, my voice pretty gravelly. I tried to look mean but couldn’t pull it off, I half-laughed, half-choked, and Kinsley giggled as she passed the bottle.

I took a small sip, then another, and gave it back to her. “Thank you.”

“How do you feel?” she asked.