By Katie Arminie

My heart pounds in my chest as we walk down the overcast city streets away from the small apartment I share with my boyfriend. His mom is by my side. Her skeletal frame is humming with determination, seemingly unaffected by what is at stake. I, however, am replaying recent events, wondering where it all went so wrong so fast. A drug hangover, of late, clouds my judgement. The gray autumn sky is not helping to clarify my thoughts like the summer sun would have. 

We are far enough along the route that I can see the tops of the brown bricked buildings. It has no atmosphere like a boring brown shoebox, and yet it radiates negative energy. The apartments are a hotbed of drug activity and violence. Although it makes no sense for Kevin to have taken her there, I know he saw it as his only option. His mother drones on accusations of blame in my direction. Somehow I am at fault. She smokes one cigarette after another. For whatever reason, the smell of burning paper and nicotine eases my nausea. I am that scared. 

Why was there blood? What did he do? Why are we chasing him down and not notifying the police? But I know why… Somehow I want to fix things. Judy does too. We are fools. We round a corner and there is the complex 400 feet away. I stop as the police roadblock enters my awareness: red lights flashing, officers standing around blocking the entrance from the street and from the sidewalk, their countenance grim.  Judy grabs my arm as if to say, “No matter. We are doing this!” Is this emergency barricade because of Kevin?

“Let me do the talking and stop looking so damn guilty!” Judy snaps in my ear.

This is typical behavior, so I am unfazed or just caught up in my frantic thoughts. The police presence is staggering. Kevin will be caught regardless of what this is about. Is this a drug bust or something more? My hands feel clammy as I repress a shiver that shoots down my spine. It is early fall, so the weather is still pleasant, however the knowledge does not stop the chill from taking over my body. A dread-like premonition fills me, this cannot be fixed.

We are almost in front of the barricade. A dark haired policeman in his forties motions at us to halt our steps. His hardened visage is no nonsense, not easily fooled by the likes of us.

“You know someone here?” He asks in a deep, stern voice.

My mind tries to find common ground. I think he is of Italian descent, which makes sense for this area of the city. He is someone I probably shared space with at my favorite restaurant or passed by while grocery shopping in a world lost to me now.

“What’s it to you?” Judy’s gruff voice asks. She is losing her cool, so I am forced to take over. 

“Yes, we…” I stop myself short, saying Kevin’s name would implicate us. 

“Alright, I don’t have time for this.” He sounds annoyed at us and the world. “I’m not saying it again. Who are you here for?”

Judy blurts out in her cigarette smoking garble, “None of your business. This is America, Honey. We can go and see anyone we like.” 

He huffs in irritation, “Obstructing an investigation is an arrestable offence.” His fed up dimenor has drawn the attention of a nearby female officer in her early thirties. She appears to be hispanic and tough as nails.

I have to say someone’s name. Time is running out. I’ll make up a name. His eyes narrow at me, sensing I am about to lie. Then a flicker of color catches my eye as if I am imagining it. I look again at the open window from the ground floor of the building closest to us, nothing. Not deluded by this, my eyes are drawn to the area. I sense an almost supernaturally dark occurrence. Again I see it as a flash of orange, the color the young woman was wearing. A group of officers go over to the window. They are excited and are caterwauling like birds, reminding me of a murder of crows elicoting over a dead animal.

One of the officers moves slightly so I can see the window. There in the opening is Kevin. He looks insane with fury. His hand is moving violently back and forth, pointing at me, implicating me on whatever he has done. A bonnet of blackness surrounds my head, sound comes as if through a tunnel, my life is at a dire pinnacle. My mind rushes with conceptualizations of opportunities wasted as my life takes this turn. Seconds ago, I had a chance to save myself, instead I put a man in front of my needs. I am my mother, but in a twist of fate filled irony, have come to far worse circumstances.