Page 14 of Just Ten Seconds

When you start to compare yourself to a car, you know you have issues.

“That’s it, Mara. Out of the car,” I say to myself.

I walk through the parking lot and toward the steel side door of the church, like the website said.

The door is propped open with a red brick on the ground. I open it and walk inside. Yellow cinder-block walls are accentuated in fluorescent lighting. A bulletin board has a sign with the support groups that are in the building.

INSTILLATION OF HOPE—Room 1B

COPING FAMILIES OF INMATES—Room 1D

LIVING WITH A DEPENDENCY—Room 1A

LOVE AND SEXUAL ADDICTION SUPPORT—Room 1G

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a sex addict,” I muse to myself. “Although Jackie has been on my case about getting a hobby …”

I creep down the hallway, peering all the way to the end, to the barely illuminated double doors that lead to who knows where. The overhead lights are bright, and yet there’s a dim feeling from the lack of windows.

It feels familiar. The long corridor and wooden doors. The faint smell of Lysol. It reminds me of the courthouse. The walls were beige, and yet the feeling was just as eerie. While the outside was large with grandeur, the inside had narrow hallways, making you feel meek and isolated.

There’s a piece of loose-leaf paper taped to the outside wall, letting me know this is the room I need to be in. I peek inside. Everyone is seated, looking forward to where a woman is talking at the front of the room.

A chill creeps up my spine as sweat beads at my forehead. My heart pulses. The feeling of panic overwhelming.

I grip the molding of the doorway for support as the sweeping pain takes over, clutching it as I roll back to the hallway, my back hitting hard against the cinder block. I fall down to the linoleum floor, slamming my eyes shut.

The memory is so vivid; it takes over me.

“Count it down for us.”

The prosecutor paces the room as I sit in the witness stand, clutching the fabric of my suit. My jaw trembles as the reporters snap pictures, penning their articles of the society housewife who witnessed the gruesome murder.

I can feel the searing heat of his stare shooting daggers into me. He’s angered by my presence. Horrified by the fact that I am here. I shouldn’t be here.

I try to keep my eyes focused on Jackie, the only friend in the room.

The room goes silent as the prosecutor counts slowly. “One …”

He wanted a pocket watch for his birthday. Something vintage and unique like his grandfather used to wear. I found one in the Diamond District and had it engraved.

“Two …”

I was on my way home when a display caught my eye. A teddy bear, soft blue with a white bow. I made a detour and purchased the gift before the store closed for the evening.

“Three …”

I was supposed to head uptown but changed my plans. After all, it was Friday night, and Benjamin had been working unusually long hours that week.

“Four …”

As I entered the lobby of the Midtown office, I was let through security with a smile. I congratulated one of the guards on the birth of his son and entered the elevator.

“Five …”

The reception area on the twelfth floor was empty. Everyone was gone for the night. I walked down the hall and saw the light coming from Benjamin’s office. With one hand on the handle and the other clutching my new purchases, I couldn’t contain my grin.

“Six …”