Madeline
Myrah crouched as close to the ground as she could against the metal cylinder. She hoped they could not see her, but that also meant she could not see. She could smell the trash can beside her horridly, but she feared the horror that it would expose her to if she didn’t hug onto it. There was a breeze in the air and it was a sunny but not too hot day. Of course it was a sunny but not too hot day. No one goes to the local park if it is not a sunny but not too hot day and therefore. And on a sunny but not too hot day, there were more victims at the park.
As a runner, Myrah preferred to run though the park than on the busy streets or on a treadmill. She started her habit a few years ago when her best friend, Lilly, suggested they run a 5k. A 5k turned into a 10k, which turned into a half marathon, which by then Lilly had graciously bowed out to their racing. But Myrah didn’t care. She loved the rush that running gave her. And even though she stopped racing almost a year ago, she kept up the running habit. Little did she know that her running habit would lead her to being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Myrah glanced around without exposing herself. She could see a man lying lifeless a few feet from her. Not close enough to touch but close enough to know that he liked the Red Sox from his blood stained baseball cap and that he was married by his wedding ring. Although it was difficult to tell a person’s age through a shield of blood, she could tell he was young. His wife was also likely young. She was a widow before their lifelong commitment to each other could start.
Myrah flinched as another gunshot rang through the air. She could not tell if it was closer than the first gunshot or further. She never saw the man with the gun, but from the man’s body next to her, the shooter had to be close enough.
“Oh Myrah. Come out come out wherever you are,” she heard a vaguely familiar voice say in a sing-song voice. Was that Steve?
She had met Steve online three weeks ago. They went on three dates. The first was coffee, the second was drinks and the third was dinner. After dinner, he took her to his house. As a bit of a neat freak, she could not get over how dirty his house was. There were dishes in the sink, clothes on the living room floor, and hair from his chihuahua everywhere. She decided that if he was going to be a slob, Steve was not the one for her.
She never told him she didn’t think he was the right one for her and she did feel bad about it, but that is what everyone does with online dating. They stop calling when they are no longer interested.
A flash of yellow caught Myrah’s eye. She looked up in time to see a woman in a yellow floral dress running. Then she heard the gunshot and watched as the women fell to the ground.
“Oh Myrah,” Steve’s sing-song voice said again. Myrah was frightened. All these people were dying because of her.
“I’m here,” Myrah said, standing up with her hands above her head. Was she stupid?
Steve’s smile grew as he pointed the gun at her. She looked down the barrel and swallowed.
“Myrah, I have been looking all over for you,” Steve said in the sing-song voice.
“Steve, what do you want?” Myrah tried to sound confident but she felt anything but strength.
“I want to know why you are such a whore!” The last word came out short and loud as though he was punching her in the gut with it. “I loved you Myrah. We were going to have a glorious life together. I already picked out our children’s names. They would be Stephen Jr. and Maya, after you. We were going to get a dog and live happily ever after. And then you ended it. Why did you end it Myrah?”
“I didn’t end it.” Myrah took a step back.
“You didn’t?” Steve raised his eyebrows.
Myrah could hear sirens coming close. She needed to distract him long enough for the trained professionals to take over.
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye near the playground and she prayed that Steve didn’t see it. Just as she thought the person was safe, Steve swung around and shot twice, hitting a figure in the shadows. Myrah flinched. Steve trained the gun back on Myrah as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. Her hands were drooping and she raised them a bit higher to make sure there was no mistake that she was being obedient to Steve.
“You see Myrah. This is all your fault. I have been watching you. I know you have been seeing that guy.”
“What guy?” Keep him talking, Myrah.
“You know who I am talking about? With the glasses and the striped shirt.” She went out with one guy but he couldn’t stop talking about comic books and so Myrah had ghosted him after the first date as well.
“Jeremy?”
“Yes, that guy. Who is he?”
“I’m not seeing Jeremy anymore.” She could now see the police cars as they approached. It wasn’t much longer before she would be done. She could go home and take a hot shower and wash this nightmare off her body. She would then delete Tinder and only meet men the old-fashioned way: bars. It was almost done.
Myrah watched Steve’s trigger finger move. A shot rang out and Myrah felt the pain in her shoulder as the sharp bullet entered her body. Steve then placed the end of the gun in his mouth and shot his final shot.
