Three more days until The Day.
It's been a week, or maybe more, that I've started to feel this way again. I guess once I realised that it's April again, everything started to feel as if I'm stuck inside a washing machine again.
But I'll face it here. I'll be truthful to myself for once. Even if it means reliving every bit of it.
A year minus three days ago, I was in Paris with my best friend. We were laughing. We were deciding where to eat. We were walking around Champs Elysees cracking jokes like the kids we were. And we stopped walking by the pavement of an alley because she wanted to take out here scarf from her bag. Maybe she was trying to put it in. I can't remember. Maybe I subconsciously choose not to. And then It happened. A deafening sound. Once. Then a long pause. Maybe it's only long in my head. I turned. I saw a fully geared policeman raise his gun. He was aiming at something. Someone. Then I stood there. I could hear the sound of people around me shouting. I could hear the rushed footsteps. But they're all muffled. And I couldn't move. I was frozen. I did not understand what was happening. Another deafening sound. Then another. And another. And another. It seemed endless. What the fuck is happening, was what I thought. But my body was not responding.
And then I felt something tugging my hand forcefully and my body was dragged with the force. It was her hand. And then the adrenaline kicked in. And we started running. As if our life depended on it. Because it did.
I did not know where we were going, but I knew we had to keep running. Just move. Run. Run. Run. Don't think. Run. Fuck it god let me run. Runrunrunrunrun. And I saw a bakery in front. Just a few meters more and we'd make it. Runrunrunrunrun. Then she called my name, she said herehereherehere. And two big white doors were what I saw. And we ran and the guy standing behind those doors were calling out, comefastfastfastfastfastcomecome. His hands wailing in the air. His face desperate. And we made it. And the moment we stepped in, the doors were locked. Fuck.
And that's when she broke down. And that's when it started to make sense to me. Then she broke down and we hugged until we're both slightly calmer. And we waited for hours and hours and hours in that backroom of a store, praying someone would not walk in and shoot us all.
And I saw a girl with bleeding leg being treated in front of us. I think she's more terrified than us.
God, this is hard. I think I need to stop here for now.
