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Slowly, the darkness that had numbed my senses with its cradling softness began to lift. Voices began flooding through my ears; some so loud that I wished the blackness would take me into its grip once again.
“Help her! Help her!” I heard a woman scream. I wondered why she was in such a panic, because I didn’t feel any pain.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, but she didn’t seem to hear me. Suddenly, pounding footsteps came from behind me.
“Oh God, she’s been shot! Quick, call an ambulance!” a voice shouted.
What sounded like a stampede sounded all around me.
“She’s not breathing! Oh lord… She’s not going to make it…”
“Come on, there must be someone here who can help her!”
I heard someone crouch down next to me. They put their sweaty fingers on my chest and began to pump it up and down hard.
Fire ripped through my heart.
Sirens wailed in the background, and the darkness became my owner once more.
Beep.
Beep.
A nasty pain clung to my chest like a black beetle, refusing to let go.
Beep.
An uncomfortable bit of plastic in my nose and mouth.
Beep.
Flashbacks.
Beep.
A crackling, familiar voice.
Beep.
Ronny.
“It’s me.”
A gunshot.
I opened my bleary eyes and found myself in a hospital bed. I was all wired up, connected to the heart monitor that beeped constantly, giving me a headache. There was a grey, plastic chair next to the bed, on which hung my father’s coat. Hundreds of flowers surrounded me, giving the room a sweet, fragrant scent. I moved my head slightly to the left, where my dad was staring out of the window.
“Dad?” I whispered, wincing as the flame stabbed my chest.
His head whipped round, and, for the second time in my life, I saw him crying.
A shudder ran through me.
My father walked slowly up to the bed and took my small, pale hand.
“I thought I’d never see you again…” he murmured. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stared into his deep, sorrowful eyes. “When they told me you’d been shot, they told me you probably wouldn’t make it… The bullet went right near your heart, and you lost a lot of blood.” he continued, each tear a picture of all the sadness he’s faced. “What I want to know is why you were shot – what kind of monster would shoot such an innocent child? Why on earth would they do that? I can’t believe those good-for-nothing police haven’t found him yet…” he ranted.
I closed my eyes. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t know.
He didn’t know that it had anything to do with Ronny at all.
But did I really want to tell him? If he knew, would he be in danger like me?
As soon as I’d realized it was my best friend speaking I’d been shot.
Almost killed.
There was no way I was putting my father in that kind of danger.
“Here, you dropped this when… it happened.” dad said suddenly, taking my phone out of his pocket and placing it in my hand. There was a speck of blood on the screen.
My blood.
I felt sick.
Suddenly, a new message appeared on the screen from an unknown number.
‘Look out of the window’
Shaking, I turned my head – and bit back a scream. On the roof of the building opposite stood a man dressed in all black, a hood pulled over his face. In his hand was a gun pointed straight at my father.
This was the man who shot me, I was sure of it.
“What’s wrong, Naomi - what is it?” he asked. I tried to point to the gunman, but my hand didn’t want to move. “Nurse! Nurse! There’s something wrong with my daughter!” he shouted.
Just then, my phone beeped again. Heart pounding, I read the message.
‘Don’t tell a soul’
I looked at the window in time to see the gunman disappearing, leaving no trace.
