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Honey From a Bullet
Arms are wrapped around me, squeezing me so tightly it hurts. A constant breathing pattern laps against my ear, but I don't know whose it is. I blink my eyes open in shock. That breath belongs to a man I've seen only a few times roaming through the city. I do not know of or about him, but somehow he seems important. When he realizes I'm awake he jolts against me in alarm and gently grabs my face. At his touch my whole body tenses, looking at him persuades me to ache.
Then I remember.
I'm walking down a city street, totally absorbed in the music my headphones are bringing me. Out of nowhere a Mercedes drives up the street, the window rolls down, and a hand extends holding a gun. For one moment in time I watch the hunger in the gang member’s eyes and glance in the direction the gun is pointing, a hooded man is there with his back turned to me, completely unaware
of the car, or the peril his life is in.
Something compels me to think “No. Not him.”
I run as fast as I can towards the hooded man. The music pushes me faster and faster, my heartbeat races and my legs strain with the tension, but I still run. The gun cracks as I reach the man, and with all of my strength I push the
man out of the line of fire. A sharp whistle slices through the air and punctures
my chest. Clasping my wound, I whither to the concrete sidewalk in pure agony.
My hand is wet. My hand is red. My hand is shaking. The hooded man bends down toward me and frantically asks:
“Are you alright? Edina, are you alright?”
I stare at the crimson liquid, then at the man, in disbelief I unwillingly pass out.
I stare at the man cradling me.
“You saved me,” whispers through his mouth and into the mess of my hair.
“I don’t know why...I just had to, why are you..?” I say staring down at his
“I’m sorry, I had to make sure you were safe. I’ve always wanted you safe, I
I can feel the confusion cloaking my features.
“You don’t remember who I am.” he says shamefully.
“No...but… I knew I couldn’t let you die.” Something clicks inside me then, a feeling I once knew, one from a different time.
“I know you, don’t I?” I say quietly.
“You did, but that doesn’t matter now. You’re safe.”
The man pulls me closer, something inside me loves the action. Normally, I wouldn’t let a stranger hold me, let alone touch me, but something inside me screams that he’s far from a