Her look is murderous.
She turns and walks away, with both agents framing her.
I just stand there and watch.
I watch.
And watch.
Until they are long gone.
I get back to the office and stare endlessly into nothingness.
I should do something.
I have to do something.
She needs someone.
I have to take care of her.
So I get up and leave, making my way to her apartment.
I sit in the rattling subway, unable to grasp my thoughts. No one I know ever died.
Or rather, killed themselves.
El was so funny. Joked, smiled, laughed. And now, she is dead.
I get out of the station and walk the four minutes to her apartment.
There is a black GMC full-size SUV parked in front of the door.
So the agents are still here.
I decide to wait. I wouldn’t get in there anyway. I lean against the wall and wait.
I watch people passing by.
“Did you hear?” says a passing woman to another. “Elise died.”
“No way,” says the other.
Everyone is so shocked. And I, who knew her, who got licked by her, I am not. I don’t feel anything.
The only thing I feel is Amelie’s pain. Her scream still lingers with me.
I roll my shoulders back to ease the sensation it causes in me.
I wait and wait.
But no one is getting out of the building.
So, I get home.
I follow my routine at home.
But I can’t sleep.
