Descent to Corruption

5

The next few mornings go like this, me and Gabriel at the coffee cart. We talk about a little bit of everything and through my interactions with him I am able to see the gentle giant he is.

He's someone that you can tell every word he speaks comes from a well thought out place. Our short time together in the mornings are something I have come to look forward to.

The weekend passes with me making a trek out of the city to spend some much needed time with Clark and Tom. I tell them all about my morning coffees with Gabriel and with an enthusiastic "Climb that man like a tree!" from Tom I am a mess of giggles. I leave their place feeling content, but sick, having caught a cold likely from someone on the train.

By Monday I am a feverish, dazed mess and I call in sick to work.

Chugging the last of the cold medicine I have early in the morning, I am knocked out for most of the day. I wake up a sweaty dizzy mess in the evening and when I search through my cabinets I realize I am out of medicine.

'Who knew being an adult was so hard?'

I shower up and toss a pair of shorts with one of Clark's old hoodies on and in no time I am out the door to the pharmacy.

I have lived in the city long enough to know to carry pepper spray with me when I go out at night, and stepping into the nearly empty pharmacy this late I am grateful for it.

Making my way to the cold and flu aisle I grab the medicine I was looking for, and by the time I tiredly walk it to the register is when all hell breaks loose.

Three men in all black and ski masks burst into the pharmacy, they each wave guns and the largest one in front yells out a sharp, "Everyone down on the ground!"

I make eye contact with the already sweating man behind the register as we both slide to the ground. A combination of fear and just being sick causes me to shiver as I sit on the ground, and I wrap my arms tight around my bare knees.

One ski mask clad man makes his way to the back and one comes in my direction to the register, the third, the speaker for the group, remains as watch in front of the doors.

'Head down, head down, for the love of god Arabella don't look up'

I repeat the mantra in my head, but like an idiot I take a peek up to the commotion occurring near me at the register.

The robber has his gun pressed to the poor man who had been working the register, he's crying and his hands shake as he opens the register. Too busy watching the interaction between them I don't notice the footsteps that make their way to me.

"She's a pretty one, isn't she Frankie?"

I shakily look up and the one who had been manning the door is now looking down at me, his eyes are all I see and the way he's looking me up and down has me pulling my legs in tighter to my chest.

"Hey! I just got one back here, so this should be easy." A gravely voice shouts out.

Coming up the aisle I see it's the shorter man who had gone to the back, he has his gun out in front of him pushing a man towards where we are congregated.

In any other situation I am sure I'd find the sight a bit comical, but right now I was too busy trying to not pass out in fear and because of my fever.

Why comical you ask? Because the man he was pushing to the front was nearly double his size, in height and build, and the contrast was a bit amusing.

Wavy auburn hair sits atop the tall honey eyed man, donning a jacket that did nothing to hide his broad frame his eyes scan the scene he is brought into.