A Rude Awakening
by
Robert Dominguez Jr.
July 20th,2005
Eric burst through the door like a demon out of hell hitting the gravel floor hard sending dust into the air. He was weak and only had the energy to prop himself up on his hands and knees. He never lifted his head because he didn’t have the strength; instead he let the sweat pour down his scalp and onto his hair until it finally hit the ground forming a small puddle. He was exhausted like a runner after a marathon. His hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and every breath he took burned as he inhaled the much needed air.
Finally, after a few seconds he forced himself up onto his feet. The breeze felt refreshing as it hit him square in the face. He was lean and average built dressed in regular street clothes. Then wiping some of the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his blue unmarked shirt, he began to laugh. He laughed under his breath at first, then eventually aloud for the world to hear. Eric opened his eyes and realized that there was no where else to run, that this was the end of the line.
He walked steadily across the roof of the skyscraper towards the ledge and looked out across the cities night sky. Soon they would be here, soon things would be over. He contemplated over the series of events that led him to this point, how maybe things would have been different if he would have just thought about his ideas all the way through before acting upon them. He inhaled more of the much needed air looked up at the sky. The moon was full and large taking up most of the tapestry above. Besides the usual sounds of cars, planes, and pointless racket, the atmosphere was quite surreal and silent. Eric never felt so calm in his life. This was the eye of the storm for him.
Eric’s face was unshaven, dirty, and tanned. He had a few cuts across his left cheek and an abrasion that ran across his forehead. He was obviously in some sort of scuffle or accident. He kept his eyes closed not wanting to disturb this moment of tranquility when all of a sudden the doors that led to the roof top busted open.
Within seconds, numerous SWAT personnel swarmed through the doors and completely surrounded Eric from all sides leaving no exit. Each had their gun drawn pointing small red dots across his chest. These men were not here to play games; before the sun would rise they would either have Eric in custody or have him carried away in a body bag.
He could hear the clicking sounds of hammers being drawn back and rounds being loaded into their chambers. Eric opened his weary eyes to see fifteen to twenty men all fully loaded to the front, left, and right of him. Through all the running, he couldn’t remember what started it all, what started the chain of events that took him over the fine line of right and wrong, the line that seems more grey and smeared than clear and concise.
“I’m going to have to ask you top step away from the ledge son!” screamed a SWAT team leader with a bull horn firmly in hand. Eric never moved a muscle; he just stood his ground staring at the officers but not individually, more like a whole. The wind was gentle as it glided past Eric’s cheeks making him feel warm and cold simultaneously. The men were anxious and unsteady as they continued to stare at their target.
“I’m not going to ask you again, please step away from the ledge with your hands up and behind your head and walk towards us!” screamed the leader again only this time with more authority. Eric looked directly into the officer’s eyes desperately trying to see something that was not there; life. He turned and stepped onto the narrow ledge almost falling off instantly. He wobbled for a bit until finally gaining his balance. All the men gasped as some even extended a hand towards his direction. Eric turned to see the officers leaving his back exposed to the elements, to the city of the night.
“PLEASE GET OFF THE LEDGE!” yelled the leader desperately trying to gain Eric’s confidence. At this time is when he spread his arms out as though he were being crucified.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” whispered the leader in a more humane tone almost begging him to dismount the ledge. Eric felt the feeling of a teenager staying out way too late on a Saturday drinking and wandering the streets for fun, a feeling of almost being caught and getting away. He felt young and alive and more awake than ever; he embraced what was to be and accepted it as fate.
At that moment Eric leaned his body weight back and progressed to fall back, there was no turning back, the wheel was in motion.
“NO!!!!” screamed the leader as he dropped the bull horn and sprinted towards the falling man. Everyone else ran towards the ledge as well in hopes of possibly grabbing a piece of Eric’s clothing, but it was too late for he was too far gone.
As the leader looked over the edge, he could see the image of Eric steadily growing smaller and smaller as he drifted away.
The wind was powerful as it hit his back making almost all the sound around him inaudible. The flapping sound of clothes were strange and fierce and he constantly tried to keep his limbs outward but the speed of his descent caused them to be pushed inward. Then everything went black.
He opened his eyes almost suddenly covered in sweat and gasping for air. His heart was racing and it took a few seconds for him to gather his senses to try to figure out where he was. He was home in his own bed; it was all a dream, a horrible dream that made him thank God he was alive and well. Eric turned and sat at the edge of his bed letting his feet tangle over the edge. He didn’t want to fall asleep again in fear that he would relapse into the same dream, worst yet, at the same moment he left it.
He looked around the room and suddenly began to cry. He had contemplated the last few months about ending it all, that maybe his life was not worth living, especially after the accident. Now he was crying out of happiness, that he was given an opportunity to see the repercussions of demanding a death that was not his to take.
After about five minutes he felt better and decide to return to sleep. He grabbed one leg and placed it on the bed and then grabbed the other and did the same. He then used the wheelchair next to his bed to support his weight so that he could turn off the lamp on the nightstand. As he drifted off to sleep he realized that the morning would come and with it would be a new day.
“Copyright © 2005 by Robert Dominguez. All Rights Reserved.”