One
With her mouth gaping and eyes widened, Irish was frozen in a fear so chilling that she could barely feel her limbs. The loud sound of a gunshot pierced her ears, which temporarily suspended her hearing.
“Oh my God,” she professed breathlessly.
Jovanis was just in front of her, smiling painfully at the thought of them ending their marriage. She’d just touched him and assured that she would always be his friend. He was just there until he wasn’t. Irish watched in horror as his body violently dropped to the ground. The masked man stood over him, shooting another bullet into his chest. It was so inhumane that she could barely watch. Even through this horrific scene, Irish couldn’t move her feet.
After two shots, the masked man looked at her. It was then when Irish jumped back into her right mind. The gun lifted, centering on her before she ran.
Pow!
Her heart almost burst from the sound of the shot. She ran like her life depended on it. Ducking, she hoped her movements wouldn’t attract the bullets to enter her.
Pow! Pow!
Two more shots sounded in her ear, inciting her body to house more fear. Irish had never been this terrified. Her chest was tight with her stomach bubbling uncontrollably.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
Irish ducked under a bench, hoping this would’ve been enough to cover her. Her limbs shivered as she covered her head with her hands.
“God help me, God help me,” she chanted, praying for a miracle.
There were so many gunshots that Irish couldn’t keep up. All she did was close her eyes and pray that she wasn’t hit. Suddenly, they ceased. Still not wanting to look, she continued to keep her eyes closed until she was pulled from under the bench.
“Aarrgghhhh!” she screamed.
“Aye, chill,” a man’s voice said, “Noble sent me.”
Irish’s screams faded away as she looked at the guy in front of her. He was young, wearing a black hoodie over his head. In his hand was a gun that prompted her to crawl backwards.
“Get away from me,” she demanded with nervousness.
“Look, Noble sent me to make sure you was straight. Who the fuck was that shooting at you?”
Irish looked around, completely dumbfounded by everything. She didn’t know whether to believe this man or treat him like a suspect.
“Where were you?” She eyed him, skeptically.
“I was parked in the car right there.” He pointed toward the lot. “Noble said make sure Van don't do nothing crazy but fuck, I didn’t see that nigga come out the cut like that.”
Suddenly, Irish remembered Jovanis. Jumping to her feet, she ran over toward his body that laid on the grass. Blood leaked from his head and chest, making her heart palpitate.
“Van, get up. Please, Van, get up.”
His arms were so heavy as she tried to lift him. He didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.
“Van, please. Get up for me.”
He was so lifeless. Breath had evaporated from his body but Irish wouldn’t accept it. Maybe he was in a coma. Maybe he had temporarily lost consciousness.
“He’s gone.”
“No, no, no.” She shook her head, trying to lift him up. “No, he’s okay. We just gotta get him to a hospital.” Irish wouldn’t welcome this reality. She barely let the thought cross her mind before nixing it.
The guy kneeled down. “Irish, he’s gone.”
“No,” she cried. “He just need an ambulance. Call them!” she screamed. “Just call them for me!”
