My Guardian Angel(22)

Love, love, love, love you till Tuesday

Love, love, love, love you till Tuesday



Well, I might stretch it till Wednesday



My skin began to crawl and I knew this was more than just a joke. It had happened before, but just as it started, it ended. Getting weird fan mail wasn’t out of the norm, but still it creeped me out.

I ripped it out of my stereo and placed it back into the box with the note and the dead flower. I walked up to my door and made sure it was locked. I armed the alarm and headed upstairs with my laptop. I wasn’t much in the mood to write, but maybe I would be the moment I started.





Hostages



“Dar! Lower the fuckin’ TV already!” I screamed from the kitchen. My brother had come over for a ‘visit’; more like he called to make sure I was making lasagna. Damn him and his annoying ways. It was our favorite food growing up. I can’t tell you how he knew, but my brother always knew when I was making it. He was here without fail, each and every time. I turned the oven light on and checked. A light, crisp, brown color had formed on top, as the cheese was perfectly melted. I turned it off and opened the oven door. I was engulfed by the rich aromas of tomato and fresh herbs. The sizzling sound of the cheese and sauce in the deep-dish pan made my stomach rumble in anticipation.

“Damn girl! It smells good in here! I'm glad I came over today,” Darios yelled from the couch he was lying down on.

“Whatever, Dar!” I grimaced with my back turned to him. Had he not come here, I would have had the whole thing to myself. Slowly enjoying every morsel, but now I would need to fight for my food. It didn’t matter if it was on my plate either. The man ate everything in sight. I gently placed my masterpiece on the counter. I took off my oven mitts and admired it for a minute.

“Breaking News. Shots have been fired here at the downtown Manhattan clinic. Police say a deranged man has walked into a clinic, demanding to see his wife. Sources say that his wife had died a few weeks back from the H1N1 virus. The man is armed and has taken hostages.”

“Holy shit,” Dar murmured.

I looked up and saw a few SWAT teams there lined up with their black trucks and gear. My heart skipped a beat. What if Jason was there?

“The incident started not too long ago, but it seems to have escalated the moment the SWAT teams arrived. The man began waving his gun and shooting at those who came near him.”

I moved closer to the television, wanting to see more. I was hoping that I could see Jason’s face, but I couldn’t. That’s when I saw the precinct number; it was Jason’s. Now all I had to do was pray that he wasn’t working today. I sat down glued to the TV, wondering what could happen next.

“Police say more shots have been fired and a few SWAT officers have been hurt, but the man has been subdued. He was shot with a rubber tipped projectile that was filled with a beanbag. A normal tactic, especially when there are many innocent lives at stake.”

“I have to go,” I said in a panic, as I stood up and went for the door. All I kept thinking about was ‘a few SWAT officers were shot’.

“Go where?” my brother called after me.

“I need to go, Dar.” I took my jacket and took off.

I rang up the precinct, which Jason worked at, remembering that Tiff made me call the secretary and thank her for her help. I was finally thankful that I was famous. She gladly gave me the hospital where they were taken. I hailed a cab and sat anxiously as I waited until he drove me there. Once the cabby stopped in front of the hospital, I threw him the money and ran inside.

The place was swarming with people. Nurses were running around, trying to control the hectic influx of people.

“I'm sorry.” I grabbed onto the orderly who was there. “Can you tell me where the SWAT officers, the ones who were shot, are?” I asked anxiously.

“Down the hall, to the left,” he said without bothering to look at me and continued on his way. I quickened my pace and went down the hall, but was stopped by a nurse.

“I'm sorry, but you’re not supposed to be here.” A thin blonde nurse, who looked about fifty, appeared before me. She looked down at me from her brown-rimmed glasses, holding onto her folders.

“I'm looking for the SWAT officers who were shot,” I said as I tried to get past her, but she blocked me again.

“Are you family?” she asked.

“No, I’m not. I just want to make sure that one of them isn’t a friend of mine,” I bit out, my anxiety getting the better of me.

“Then I'm sorry, I can’t let you go there.” She pointed to the exit, which led me out to the lobby.

“Look, I totally understand why you can’t let me go through. I get it. I really do, but I need…”