Once again it’s time for a fun adventure. Enjoy my story below, then follow the links to other stories of participating authors in the blog hop. Leave us comments. We love hearing from you!
Something about Mary
“My name is G.R.”
The beautiful young woman ignored my introduction and continued down the empty sidewalk.
“Mary, I said my name is G.R.”
She quickened her pace but I had no trouble keeping up.
Twenty-two, physically fit, wavy dark hair, and in the middle of a master’s program in biological research. And stubborn.
“Mary Samantha Yoder.”
She spun, zapped me with a taser, and ran. The pretty ones always run.
I followed at a distance and remained out of her sight. She was obviously going home and it would be easier to wait until she quit running.
She effortlessly darted up the three flights of stairs to her apartment and slammed the door.
I stood alone in her living room for only a moment before Mary sprinted into the room, screamed, and swung an aluminum bat that connected with my side.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
The veins distended in her neck; her forehead, arms, and legs dripped with sweat.
She swung again and I caught the bat with my hand. Mary gaped, let go of the bat, and ran to her bedroom.
Enough with the door slamming.
“Please hurry! He’s in my room now!” she screamed into her phone when I entered her room.
She threw her phone over the bed and it crashed against the wall where my head had been when she let it go.
She shook her head and backed up to the wall. “Please! Don’t!”
They always assume I’m the bad guy. It hurt.
“If you calm down I can explain my presence.”
I hated the look of fear that washed over Mary’s flawless face. The last thing I wanted was to cause her anguish. I simply wanted to know her before…while there was still time.
I shouldn’t have exposed myself to her, but I couldn’t help myself. I loved her.
“What are you doing here?” she finally managed.
“I wanted to approach you weeks ago, but I’m not allowed to interfere,” I explained.
“How do you know me? Have we met?”
“No, we haven’t met, but I’ve been watching you for weeks.”
“What?” she slunk to the floor, shaking.
“It isn’t what you think. Watching people is part of my job.”
Well, that didn’t help.
She sobbed, and when I tried to console her she pulled away.
The doorbell rang, followed by loud pounding. Mary tried to scream but instead coughed and clutched her chest.
“They can’t help you,” I said, but moved to her side where she had a direct path to the door.
She didn’t move, I’m sure from a lack of strength. She only had a few minutes left.
“What, what do you want with me?” she managed between breaths.
“I’m just doing my job.”
“You’re here to kill me?”
“No, I’m not allowed to interfere.”
“What do you mean?”
“G.R. stands for Grim Reaper.”
“Actually I’m grim reaper in training. You’re about to experience a pulmonary embolism.”
“A blood clot in my lungs?”
“Any minute now,” I said grimly.
“You did this to me?”
“No. My job isn’t to cause death; just to collect your soul.”
Her red eyes dropped another tear. “You mean…”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Shouldn’t you be happy?”
Sirens roared outside as the doorbell beeped again.
“I’m not very good at my job.”
She stood but fell against the window sill for balance. “What does that mean?”
“You better lie down.”
She nodded and I helped her to the bed.
She lay, staring at me. She was a curious individual and I’m sure trying to decide whether to believe me.
“I like people. I get attached. I didn’t need to follow you before—today, but I read your bio and I had to know you. I love you.”
The incessant doorbell began, followed by pounding.
She stared at me for the longest time. I didn’t know how to read her quietness but it made me uncomfortable.
“If you love me, can’t you stop it?”
“Like I said, I’m not allowed to interfere.”
She violently coughed again and blood splattered from her mouth. I grabbed two towels from her bathroom—one to clean up blood and the other to wipe the sweat from her face.
She glowed like an angel. That’s where…that’s who…I couldn’t bare the thought. I wanted to reach inside and remove the clot and save her; or squeeze her heart to stop the suffering. But I wasn’t allowed to interfere.
Finally, a crash, shouting, and footsteps.
Mary’s eyes shot wide for a brief moment before they shut and she went limp.
The door burst open and two police officers stormed in. One began CPR while the second radioed for an ambulance.
I looked down on Mary, lying in white. After all she had been through she looked content, peaceful, beautiful.
Her surgeon scribbled in her chart when the two police officers, in plain clothing, tapped on the open door and entered.
They introduced themselves and asked about Mary.
“That was a close one, but she should pull through.” The surgeon shook his head. “A few moments later…you two saved her life.”
Hours later in the dark hospital room Mary opened her eyes and looked up at me. She coughed and winced.
“Are you here for me?”
Her face fell.
“I-I mean no,” I quickly stuttered. “I’m just visiting.”
She reached out so I took her hand.
“I’m not dead?”
“The doctor said you would be fine.”
She closed her eyes and I thought she had faded back to sleep. When I stood she squeezed my hand. “You saved my life. If you hadn’t chased me I wouldn’t have called the police and no one would have been there when I…”
“I thought you aren’t allowed to interfere?”
“I may have arrived a little too early,” I admitted. “But like I said, I’m not very good at my job.”
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