As soon as I burst out of the entrance to the club my face glows with red and blue flashes and a sob tears through my chest as I drop to my knees, blearily hearing the ambulance screech to a stop.
I can hear the crowd that is waiting in line to enter the club all mumble to themselves, however, nobody approaches me to help me up, it must be all the blood.
The only people to approach are the paramedics and I heave my head up, staring at their blurry figures as they dash to my side and I force my trembling body onto my bare feet, holding my hands up in a surrendering motion.
The worn-down Bronx buildings crammed along the street seem to shake and expand as my breathing turns into panicked gasps, the rain has yet to pass however there is only a light mist spraying my face from the skies and I beg it to wash away the blood that I can feel scratching my skin.
"I don't need your help. A girl has been murdered in the second-story bathrooms; the killers are still in there." I gasp out.
The crowd which was so content to ignore my fallen form suddenly take me far more seriously and the crowd starts shouting and bustling to leave the line as they all attempt to flee, the sounds too much for my shaken mind as I raise my palms over my ears, feeling dried blood on my fingertips.
One of the paramedics requests police through their walkie talkie and my shoulders sag as they announce that they are four minutes away, the responsibility to help is no longer my own.
"What's your name?" One of the paramedics gently questions and places a warm hand on my shoulder which I quickly shudder away from, and my eyes flash up to theirs.
The paramedic looks no older than me and a sharp, short bob frames her doe eyes that stare at me in sympathy, and it rubs me the wrong way as my shaking worsens, I shouldn't be the focus here.
"That doesn't matter, I'm fine, Wendy is in there, Wendy is - is, dead! You need to help her, please!" I stutter out and I feel a foil blanket be placed over my shoulders and I find myself having to grip it as my shaking shoulders threaten to drop the fabric as soon as it lands on my body.
The paramedic who placed the blanket over me looks around his forties and I notice his kind eyes as they crinkle at me beneath a pair of square glasses and he begins rubbing between my shoulder blades, reminding me of how I was doing that to Wendy less than twenty minutes ago.
"We believe that you're in shock, until we can access the club you are our health priority, can you come sit with us in the van please?" The man asks calmly and my eyebrows crease as I attempt to shake my head.
I am not the priority, there has been a murder.
But before I can voice my thoughts my knees buckle harshly beneath me again and I cry out as I drop to my knees, my teeth begin chattering and I hear the kind paramedic call out to his partner to get me in the stretcher.
"Are you in pain anywhere Miss?" The paramedic questions and I shake my head furiously.
"This blood isn't mine!" I cry out and dollops of tears start dripping down my face as I glance down at my feet and ankles that are stained sticky crimson, my stomach threatening to spill as the stretcher is parked beside me and lowered.
"Not my blood, not my blood, not my blood." I murmur as I'm lifted into the stretcher, and I can hear the paramedics considering sedating me which cuts off my rambling.
Reminding myself that this isn't my blood is my attempt of pulling myself together, there is someone out there suffering more, I am okay, I need to help.
A penlight is suddenly harassing my right eye and I flinch as the spotlight dances across my green iris, my pupil expanding and constricting as dots swim in my vision.
YOU ARE READING
His Captured Curiosity
Mystery / ThrillerEsmeralda Valerio, a typical girl who captures the attention of an atypical man. A man who had yet to be told no is now a man suddenly obsessed with the feeling of rejection as Esmeralda stumbles upon him. But this man has powers and plans that t...
