Death is inevitable.  The etched inscription on the back of my watch was horribly morbid. The black lettering only enlarges the effect. But it was a gift, it’s not as though I could have refused it. The silver watch itself, on the other hand, is a work of art, so ornate and elegant, with intricate details that almost make me gasp. I check the time. He’s late. The second hand moves leisurely across the face of the watch. But I’m on time, I know that I am. I knock on the door. Someone is supposed to be here today. But the house is empty, void of anyone. But it’s unlocked. 

“Hello?” I ask as the door creaks open. “Is there anyone in here?”

Silence greeted me, from the darkness of the inside of the front hallway to the house. I sigh as I readjust my purse, hoping that the realtor can, for once, be here on time. I always hate waiting alone, especially in public, it makes me nervous. I bite my lower lip and take a deep breath in and out. My eyes flick up, towards the top of the building, then flick back down to my shoes. No one is coming. I should leave. 

I slowly back away from the house and walk down the front steps. The house does look beautiful, idyllic, in its own way. It’s what everyone pictures when they think of a normal life. Of kids and pets and a life far away from reality. With white coloring and gray accents, the house fits in perfectly with the rest of the buildings on Carpenter Street. The little picket fence surrounding the house, standing guard against any intruders that would cross its border, was a tad taller than most, though that didn’t take away anything from the house. The foliage is a more vivid green than anything I’ve seen in ages. Living in the city, I suppose it would, given that all I see all day are the gray cement sidewalks and tall black office buildings, obstructing my view of the world beyond. All I see are four boring walls, with mundane paintings, and an eggshell telephone sitting patiently on my desk, biding its time until a call comes in. All I hear is the sound of ringing, blaring through the office like a fire truck on its way to fight a fire. I’ll just have to come back tomorrow. I suppose I have to call Mr. Tess now. He should have been here.

I start walking back to the bus station, heading into the city, as the sun starts to set beyond the horizon. An automobile zooms past me, nearly hitting me with a wave from last night's rainfall. The air becomes chillier, icier almost, and the light breeze that had been cooling everyone down all day only intensifies, whipping past me. I adjust the ivory jacket set on my wide shoulders and frown. I wasted too much time today waiting for Mr. Tess to arrive. 

We never seem to have enough time these days, everyone always wants to go somewhere, do something, never pausing for a breath. The sky begins to darken and the stars begin to come out to say hello. I put my head down and keep walking. I can’t get distracted. I have to get back home quickly or else Alex will worry. 

The bus ride home is always the most tedious part of my day. So many people in such close quarters only puts me on edge, and I hate that. But sometimes we do things we hate to do the things we love, and in those cases, the things we hate are always worth it. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not allowed to hate the bus. Besides, my job has never been something that I’m particularly passionate about. But for home, for Alex, the bus is worth it. Interesting how that works. 

The walk from my stop to our little studio apartment is short, almost less than five minutes or so, which is perfect for me, because I’ve been stuck in heels all day and I need a rest. Our apartment is on the third floor of a small brownstone building on Plummer Street. I love the cozy, warm feeling that I get when I arrive home after a long day of everything. Of going to work every day, of dealing with people such as Mr. Tess, who are never where they’re supposed to be. Of talking to people who have very set opinions on who I’m supposed to be. It can all be a bit much. But Alex makes it better. Home makes it better. 

“Alex?” I call as the door swings open. I peer around the edge of the hallway and see Alex sitting on our couch, reading the newspaper. “I’m home!” I sing-song and toss my purse and keys onto the coffee table to my left while simultaneously collapsing onto the couch next to Alex. 

Alex looks over at me and smiles. “I’m glad,” Alex says and folds the newspaper to put it away. “How was your day?”

“Oh,” I say, waving my hand as to dismiss the oncoming discussion about the house and such. “It had its ups and downs,” I smile bright and bring my hands up to Alex’s face, and bring it down to mine. “I’m just happy to be home,” I whisper against Alex’s lips, and bring them to mine. When we break apart, Alex grins and shoots up from the couch, insisting on making me dinner, and disappears into the kitchen. 

“Do you need any help!” I yell from the couch.

“No!” Alex calls from the kitchen and waves me off from the window, insisting that it get done by one person instead of two. “Thank you though!”

Good. I have some time alone. I walk over to the bookshelf and choose one of my favorites. I sneak a glance towards the kitchen, before my gaze lands back on the book in my hand. Reading just a little couldn’t hurt. Making dinner always takes a while, though Alex always loves to make it, something about the radio, we had only just gotten one a few years back. It is quite astounding

Alex calls me into the kitchen when everything is finally ready. I push myself off the couch and walk to the kitchen. Alex is beaming at me, so I turn to face the table. I gasp. The dining table is absolutely beautiful. There were roses and lilies in a flower pot in the center and some of our wedding china was set for the two of us. Candles were lit in the room, and there were even rose petals scattered across the table’s surface! On the stove, sat one of my favorite dishes, chicken tetrazzini. I pause. The realization hits me, the one all spouses have at some point or another; ‘What have I forgotten?’, and the feeling of dread and guilt that is sure to follow that question. 

“Is it our anniversary?” I whirl around to Alex, certain that I must have missed something. “Because I thought that that was-”

“No,” Alex replies and turns me back around to face the table that was prepared for us. “I know that you’ve been having a rough time lately and I thought… that I’d do something nice for you.”

Alex blushes, tentative, shy, and unsure about the preparations for tonight that were made. As if I could ever see that as wrong, what Alex has done. Tears well up in my eyes and I nearly begin to cry, I love Alex with all my heart, and this only proves it more so. My hands move to cup Alex’s face.

“I love you,” I state clearly, so there is no chance for confusion. “I love you, Alex. Thank you.” 

Alex flushes and looks down on me shyly. “I love you too, Mary.”

We then proceed to sit down, Alex pulls out my chair for me, causing me to blush. I serve both of us carefully, and Alex pours us both a little wine. When we finally settle, I grab my fork and try the chicken. It’s moist and soft and delicious and warm. Alex’s cooking has always been superb. 

“This is delicious!” I exclaim. I try the wine as well. “You have very good taste, as usual.” 

“Thanks, Mary” ALex blushes again. 

“So,” I start to change the subject. “Where’s Todd staying tonight?”

“He’s with friends, as he always is,” Alex chuckles. “He’s staying over with them tonight, so we have the place to ourselves.”

We both smile wider. Todd used to have many issues with making friends when he was younger. But ever since I moved in with him and Alex, we’ve been helping Todd together. It’s a terrible thing for a parent to run out on their four year old child. Alex had to raise Todd alone. But it’s been five years since then, and Alex isn’t the only one who has a past with a toxic ex. I try to help them both as much as I can, and in return, they try to help me. I’d say that they’re succeeding. 

“About the house,” Alex starts, then pauses, waiting for me to jump in.

“Mr. Tess wasn’t there today,” I sigh, defeated. “I waited outside the house for an hour and he still had yet to show.” I check my watch and raise my gaze back to Alex. “I’ll have to call him tomorrow, I meant to when I got home but I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Alex insists. “This is Mr. Tess’s fault for not being there today, not yours.” 

“Yeah, okay,” I agree and take another bite of the tetrazzini.

“Besides,” Alex winks at me. “There’ll be plenty of time to see that house, there’s plenty of time for us. Plenty of time for us to move and too set up Todd’s room,” I smile at the mention of it. He’s always desperately wanted to have his own space. “And there’s plenty of time to get that dog you told me from day one that you’re eventually going to adopt.”

“Spots,” I insert. “His name is Spots, Alex. I expect you to remember that.” I grin and bring my wine glass up to my lips to take a sip.

“Yeah, Spots,” Alex nods in confirmation. “There’s plenty of time to forget our past memories and make new ones. We’ve got our lives ahead of us Mary, and I intend to enjoy them.”

I finger my watch silently. I think about all the time I’ve wasted being anyone but myself. I made a promise to myself a long time ago. I’m not going to waste anymore time. Not ever again. 

“Well then,” I pronounce, raising my wine glass. “Here’s to time.”

“Here’s to the future,” Alex chimes in.

“And here’s to us,” I whisper. We clink our glasses together and set them down. We’ve got the world ripe for conquering. For the first time in my life, I am truly at peace.

We finish eating and I wash the dishes while Alex dries them. It’s always been this way, for the three years that we’ve been together. Alex makes dinner and I clean up, it’s a system, mainly because I can’t cook to save my life. We watch television for an hour or so before retiring to our bedroom. When Alex falls asleep, I drink in the sight of it. Because I want to memorize my life in case anything goes bottoms up, it has before. I never want to forget this, I never want to let it go. I eventually drift off myself, to the sound of Alex’s breathing, and to a city that never sleeps. 

I can hear the rush of the morning traffic outside our window. I’m barely awake myself, but Alex has no problem getting up in the mornings. I’ve always envied that. I guess it’s a skill, to be able to wake up and just jump right out of bed and into life. Into the world and all the ceaselessly annoying people in it. I shift under the covers, bring my feet up closer to my body, almost so much so that I’ve become a little ball under my blanket. Which is, perhaps, the most comfortable a position that anyone can ever be in. 

“It’s time to get up Mary,” Alex announces in a silvery voice and opens our curtains so that the sunlight pours into our small, little bedroom and blinds me completely.

“Why?” I groan and shift under the covers even more.

“Because,” Alex says matter-of-factly. “You have work today and so do I, you need to get out of bed.”

“But I don’t want to,” I whine quietly.

“Yeah,” Alex speaks softly and moves closer to the bed, hands landing on my shoulders. “But if you don’t… I’m going to make you,” Alex’s voice gets louder and starts to tickle me endlessly.

“Stop! Stop!” I laugh and try to hold my hands up to act as some sort of defense. “Okay! I’m up! I’m up!”

“Don’t worry about breakfast,” Alex mentions and walks out the door, heading for our kitchen. “I’ve got it. Bacon and eggs sound good?”

“Thanks Alex!” I call out, hoping that I was heard. I then roll out of bed and head towards the bathroom to freshen up. Today’s going to be another long day. I quickly brush my hair and get dressed, slipping into a white dress and my favored white jacket. I don’t have that much time to get ready, Alex was right, I’m probably going to be late. I hate being late. I always get butterflies in my stomach the moment I walk into the building. I hurry into the kitchen and pour myself a mug of coffee from the pot that Alex had already prepared and left sitting out on the counter for me. Alex was making eggs on the stove to my left.

“Look,” Alex sets down the eggs and turns to look me straight in the eyes. “I know that today’s going to be a hard day. But one day, one day we’ll have everything. We’ll be free. And we are so close.”

“I know,” I smile up at her, into her grass-green eyes. It’s been hard these last few days, people have suspicions that I’m sleeping with my roommate, let alone the fact that we’re married. Maybe one day, things will be better for us. The world has only just begun to change, people have started to realize that keeping our heads in the sand, being told who we can and can’t be, is not okay. It’s not enough for us to be miserable, but alive. What kind of life would that be? We deserve a life too. But for now, we have to keep our heads down. People don’t like the things that they don’t understand. And fear can make anyone violent. 

“Be careful out there,” Alex reminds me, as if I could ever forget. “We have time, they still have no idea, and we’re so close.”

I smile and nod, while she plops a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me. We eat in silence, and then Alex stands up, preparing to leave for her own work. She works at a hair salon and she too, hates her job, possibly more than I do, but we both needed something stable to keep us afloat after everything that happened to both of us five years ago. Including Tood, which is why we placed him in private school. The only way we could afford it was because of Alex’s parents, who have a sizable fortune. If they ever found out… Alex would be dead, as would I. And Todd would have to forget about both of us. I honestly have no idea what her parents would do to Todd if they ever found out. Which is why they can’t, not until we can run far away from here. Not until we have an escape plan. Which is almost complete. 

“Oh!” Alex sounds surprised. “I almost forgot! I’m picking up Todd today from his friends house and I was thinking that we could have a game night tonight, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course it is!” I laugh freely. Todd has to be so careful all the time, he tires of it often. So we try and squeeze in fun stuff for him to do with us, to take the edge off, like game night. “Who was he staying with last night? And he has his keys, right?” I ask, turning to Alex.

“The Johnsons, and yeah, he does,” Alex replies. “They’re nice folks, and I think Mrs. Johnson is friends with Gloria.”

“Oh, really?” I ask thoughtfully. Gloria was a friend of mine about five years ago, she helped me when everything with Jim came out into the open, even though she strongly disapproved, the fact that I was glad that he was gone. We’re still friends, just not as close as we used to be. “What a small world!”

“I know, right?” Alex chuckles. “Anyway, I’ve got to get going.”

“I’ll see you tonight, gorgeous!” I wink at her while she gets up. 

“Alright,” Alex smiles shyly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She looks surprised. But that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Her ex, the one who gave her Todd and then ran as far as he could, treated her… worse than nothing. He didn’t just neglect them, he… he did things. And Alex has been trying to recover for as long as I’ve known her. Todd has been better because he doesn’t remember as much, but for Alex, her scars run deeper. So much deeper. And that kills me. I need to see her smile, she has to be happy because she deserves to be. And because if she’s happy, then I can be too. 

My ex, he… he didn’t hurt me physically, which to society, means that he didn’t hurt me at all. That it doesn’t matter that he abused me verbally for years, that I felt completely worthless for so long after. The only reason I was ever able to get away from him was because he was hit by an automobile, and he died instantly. In his will, he left me my watch, with that horrific inscription, because he knows that it’ll be the only thing I have left of him, the only proof that I survived. That I am strong, not weak. That I am amazing and beautiful and useful, the opposite of what he wanted me to be. But that inscription is his last taunt to me, that in the end, I’ll see him again. 

But I refuse to be afraid. I refuse to stop living my life because of someone who wanted to destroy others’. I finally know who I am, and we’re so close to being free. So close to finally being who we want to be, who we are. They will never hurt us again. Ever. 

I look down at my watch again, and the sight causes me to blanch. “Shit, I’ve got to get going too,” I say while I try to stuff the rest of my breakfast into my mouth. 

Alex moves to the sink and washes her dishes. She then strides out the door while I wave goodbye. I’m going to have to get going soon here if I want to make it on time. I wash my dishes as well and brush my teeth. I check my watch and try to hurry myself up, I’m going to be late. I grab my keys in order to lock up and stroll out the door into the reality of the modern world waiting for me outside. 

The walk to my office is not that far. I’m a receptionist at a small law firm a couple of blocks from here. It’s a dreadfully boring job, and I detest everything about it. The men who work in the office say such horrid things about their wives, and about people who they don’t like, which tends to be a large population of people. The building is only three floors and the walls are a dull, light gray and its exterior is a completely-void-of-life black. The only color in the office are the flowers that sit upon my desk and every single day I have to listen intently to the ticking of the clock that is perched upon the wall behind my desk, forever reminding me about my predicament. The men who work there are kind in some sense, I suppose, at least by society’s standards. They can be polite, but I suppose that isn’t the same thing as kind. They are exactly who they seem, and they have forged themselves into exactly who they are expected to be. And that is a terrible life to live indeed.

I rush into the elevator doors just as they close, and only a minute late, which isn’t that late at all, really. Mr. Jackson and Mr. Smith are already inside, they don’t have to be worried about an infraction if they’re late. It was a miracle the firm hired me at all, most men do not favor having a women receptionist over a male one. They seem to believe me to be incompetent, which is really what every man expects a woman to be. Though I secretly hope that the only reason they believe so is because they are afraid of us, who wouldn’t be? After all, behind every powerful man, there is a far more powerful woman, with a certain amount of sway over said powerful man. It is a nice thing to hope, it is nice, to have something to light the way in the darkness.

Mr. Jackson and Mr. Smith eye me disdainfully, all dressed up in the black suits and black ties. Their shoes are black, you guessed it, and are so shiny and I swear that I can see my reflection inside. They would rather see me fired than work here at all. They turn their noses up and me, and I try to ignore them as much as I can. They’re not worth my wrath, I think. And at that thought, I smile. I tilt my chin up, proud, and the moment the elevator doors slide open once more, so that we’re finally on the firm’s level of the building, I glide out, as gracefully as I can, and take my seat, at my white desk, so clean that it’s almost startling. I am invincible. Though that feeling started to wear off as soon as the boss, Mr. Hasworth, began to approach my desk. 

“You’re late this morning, Mary,” Mr. Hasworth sighs in an unconvincing way. “One more infraction and… well, you could be put on probation, and we all know that you probably couldn’t handle that well. So I suggest that you try to be on time more, perhaps even arrive here early, as we wouldn’t want that.”

He’s a portly man, wearing the same suit and tie as Mr. Jackson and Mr. Smith. His shoes are, perhaps, even more polished and his eyes are ever so cold. His grin is like the smile a cat makes while toying with a mouse, the smile a shark has while facing its prey. He is frightening, and he hates me the most. 

“Yes sir,” I respond to Mr. Hasworth’s thinly veiled threat. He eyes me suspiciously and turns around to go and speak to M. Jackson and Mr. Smith in his office. He hates me more than most of the men in the office. I’m friends with his wife, Gloria, and after what happened to me five years ago, I had a hard go of things. She insisted that her husband hire me, as they needed a new receptionist and he grudgingly agreed. He had too, otherwise he would have had Gloria mad at him, and you never want Gloria mad. She’s a force to be reckoned with. 

He hates me because, not only am I a woman, but I am subject to rumors regarding Alex, which he believes to be true. Which they are, but I would never tell him that. He believes in a strict code, one that has never made much sense to me, but one that many men here live by as well. One that has caused my life to be a living hell for a period of time, before Alex. With her, everything is easier, though that doesn’t mean that my problems have gone away. I doubt that they ever will, not until we get far away from here. But that takes time. And Mr. Hasworth isn’t waiting. 

I twist in my chair and sigh. Time couldn’t go faster. I glance down at the pile of paperwork on my desk. This is going to take a while. I begin my work and time almost does seem to fly while I answer the telephone and focus on my tasks at hand. For lunch, all I have is some of my leftover breakfast that I couldn’t finish this morning. I didn’t have much time given how long I stayed in bed earlier today. 

The day passes by in a blur. People come and go from the building and the telephone rings constantly throughout the day, causing my stack of paperwork to only shorten slightly. The gray of the walls and the black and white of the lawyers’ suits cloud my vision. The ticking of the deafening clock above my desk never seems to want to cease ticking. Mr. Hasworth hasn't bothered me again today. And, of course, the men in the office try to ignore me to the best of their ability. The end of the work day came with cheering and clapping and instant relief, all inside my own head, of course. I can never seem to get out of here fast enough. 

I pack up my things and hurry into the elevator. I always seem to be the last one to arrive and the first one to leave. That has never bothered me in the slightest, and it has yet to bother me today. Except Mr. Hasworth slides his hand in between the doors at the last second, causing it to jump open, and causing me to be stuck inside an elevator with the man who threatened my job earlier this morning. He walks in on my right side, so naturally, I take a step to the left to give him more space, and look anywhere but him. 

“Mary,” He nods, his gaze focused on the doors in front of us. 

“Sir,” I nod back, still looking anywhere but him. Until he turns his gaze towards me. His face is contorted with concealed rage. He slips his office mask back on, his features melting into a nonchalant expression. 

“Mary,” He begins monotonically. 

“Yes, sir?” I turn to him at this point, knowing that he’ll take it as an offense if I don’t. 

“I received a very interesting call a few minutes ago,” He speaks as if I were a dangerous animal, and as if I know exactly what he was talking about. “Mrs. Johnson dropped off your roommate’s son at your apartment about a half an hour ago.”

He pauses here, eyeing me as if I might flee, as if I would show guilt or my face would reveal confirmation for whatever he thinks I’ve done. But I know that Mrs. Johnson couldn’t have dropped off Todd this afternoon, Alex promised that she would pick him up. 

“It seems someone had gotten held up at work,” He continues, ever so suspicious of me. “And Mrs. Johnson needed to use the restroom, and so your roommate’s boy let her in.”

Then it hits me. And I realize. No. No. No. No.

This can’t be happening. 

My world crashes as I realize that since Todd let Mrs. Johnson into our apartment, and she had to use the restroom, she saw. Our apartment has two bedrooms and to the outside world, Todd sleeps with Alex, but I forgot to make the bed this morning. And I forgot that Alex left a glass of water on her bedside table last night, and my reading glasses still lay on my side. Which means that Mrs. Johnson knows. Which means that Gloria knows. Which means that Mr. Hasworth knows. Which means that the whole world does. Gloria was my friend, but no one would ever think that who I am is who I am. Not even Gloria, with our long-standing friendship. No one would. Not ever. 

I try to hide my realization from my face, try to keep it from showing in my expression, but Mr. Hasworth saw. And he stalks towards me, the rage on his face bleeding through. His eyes convey disgust and horror. His fists become clenched, and the vein on his forehead begins to pop out. 

“What you are is unnatural, Mary,” He whispers as he corners me against the wall. “It is a sickness that cannot be cured. The only thing left to do is to put you out of your misery.”

I whimper. But he can’t do anything. Because at that very moment, the elevator doors ding open. And Mr. Hasworth looks away from me, towards the doors, and this is my only chance. I slip out from his grip and I walk. Not run. Because the people in the lobby would then know what was transpiring in that elevator. Or they would at least have an idea. I swear that I can almost hear Mr. Hasworth growl. A lobby full of men wouldn’t be the first to come to my rescue. So I walk, because he can’t do anything to me right now. I hold my head up high and I keep my expression blank. They can’t see the truth. Otherwise, I’m dead where I stand. 

The second I get clear of the building, I run. It’s difficult in heels, but it’s my only chance. I run and I run and I run. People give me strange looks but it’s not like I can stop and explain, it’s not like any of them would care. So I run. Past the noise of the city, past the busy streets and the laughing people. Past the strange looks and straight to my apartment a couple of blocks away. I need to get Alex and Todd. And then we need to run. As far as we can go. I can call Mr. Tess and arrange to finally buy the house, or we could leave the country all together. It doesn’t matter where we go. We just need to run. 

I sprint up our building’s stairs and frantically search my purse for my keys, the door is locked, which is a good sign. It means that Mrs. Johnson probably left. She left to make that goddamned telephone call. I turn the lock and shove the door open, I hear a small whimper and turn to see Todd cowering in the corner of the room.

“It’s alright, Todd,” I hold my hands up to show that I mean him no harm. “It’s just me, Mary.”

“Mary!” He cries, his fear wearing off. He stands up faster than I have ever seen him and sprints towards me. He hugs me. I hug him back. Then, I push him off me and cup his face. I look into his wide blue eyes and push a strand of brown hair away from his face. 

“Listen to me,” I enunciate carefully. “We don’t have much time. Where’s Alex? Where’s your Mama?”

He points to one of the back rooms and I grab his hand and pull him along with me as I run into our bedroom and slam the door shut behind us. Alex whirls around towards us, bringing up her hands in a defensive position and preparing for a fight, before she sees that it’s us and relaxes. Her brow is furrowed and she looks frantic and… frightened, I guess. She looks like a cornered rabbit, but I’m sure Todd and I do as well. 

“Thank god,” She whispers and pulls us into a hug and both of us embrace her. I push her back after a couple seconds and scan the room. She was packing. Good.

“We have to get going,” I say and she nods back quickly. “Todd, go and pack up a few things, we don’t have much time. We have to hurry.”

“Do you know what happened?” Alex questions me, nearly in tears. I nod slowly. “Claire kept me late at work today and I tried! God I tried to get out but if I pushed it any further she would have known that something was off! I got back here as soon as I could but it was too late, Mrs. Johnson was already gone, and Todd had no idea what to do.”

She starts sobbing and I pull her to my chest. I know that none of this was her fault. I know that she would bend heaven and earth to protect both Todd and I. I know who she is, a good person. 

“It’s not your fault,” I state confidently into her jet black hair. “But we have to move. Now.”

She stops crying and pulls from my embrace as she nods. She wipes the tears from her eyes and steels her expression. I rush to seize my suitcase from the closet and grab a handful of clothes and rip them off their hooks to shove them in. Alex does the same and we gather up our necessary supplies such as toiletries and our wallets. Alex runs to the kitchen to collect some food for our escape and spreads the food through the three of us in our bedroom. Todd managed to get most of his clothes and a couple of his favorite books. It had now been a half an hour since Mr. Hasworth confronted me in the elevator. We have to leave. We are running out of time. We have to leave. Now.

I lock the door behind us and we walk down to our automobile as slow as we can, it’s parked around the corner. We need to throw any suspicion off of us, the faster we walk, the more suspicious we look. Todd is breathing fast and Alex has never been a good liar, her face converys worry, and a hint of terror. We reach the street and I make an executive decision.

“We can cut down the alleyway, it cuts the walk to the automobile in half,” I point to an alley to our right, it was deserted except for a couple of dumpsters, a discarded rectangular mirror,  and an alley cat. I turn to scan the street opposite us and I don’t see anything. Or, at least, anyone. Mr. Hasworth and his work friends are nowhere to be seen. And the sun is setting, which can give us some cover. We stroll down the alleyway as casually as we can. Until I hear something behind us, and I turn. I grab Alex and Todd’s hands, preparing to break into a sprint, but there’s no one there. Only silence. And the ticking of the watch on my wrist. All three of us turn back around. 

“Look who we have here,” Mr. Hasworth grins like a shark, like a predator who has entrapped its prey. 

We’ve been caught. no no no no. No. No. NO. NO. NO! NO!

They found us. We were so careful. But they found us. 

Mr. Hasworth stood at our only exit, directly in front of our automobile. It wasn’t just him. Gloria stood to his right and Mr. Jackson and Mr. Smith stood to his left, leering down at us, the glee on their faces unmistakable. Next to them stood people we knew. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. Men from the law firm. Alex’s boss, Claire. It seems that they came to view our last moments. None of them looked even the least bit horrified. None of their faces screamed that they were concerned, or even frightened. No. They watched with revolution worn clear as day on the faces. For all the world to see. Behind them, there was a crowd of people forming on the street. Regular people heading home from their work stopped to watch. Women, readying dinner for when their husbands arrive home give us disgusted looks from their front doors and kitchen windows. Children playing in the road stop to observe what is unfolding before their very eyes. There is silence, all except for the ticking of my watch. Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

I can see us in the abandoned mirror. Alex, Todd, and I. Cowering. Frightened. Defeated. And nowhere left to run. We had all dropped our suitcases and they lay scattered next to us on the ground. Alex is shielding Todd and I’m holding my arm out in front of Alex, protecting them both from the horrors that lie ahead. Mr. Hasworth places his hands into his pockets and glances behind him, at the audience, before turning back around to face us.

“Mary,” Mr. Hasworth sighs sadly. Though it’s quite easy to see through his facade if you’ve met him. “I’m very sorry about Jim, I know you loved him.” 

I touch the watch on my wrist. He said it like he meant it. Which, I suppose, would make sense in this case. Jim was a horrible man. It took me a long while to see that, but I do know, and if I had married him, I would have killed myself long before this, and Mr. Hasworth knows it. 

“Don’t you dare speak to her like that!” Alex snarls and leaps forwards, as if to sock him across the jaw.

“No, Alex!” I grab her before she gets any further. I bring her close and whisper as quietly as I can. “That will only make it worse.” I take in her face one last time, I take in Todd’s, I have to do this. There’s no other way. None at all. I face Mr. Hasworth and his mob. I face the people in the streets. I face the bystanders and the bullies. I face the whole world. And with all the courage I can muster, I do what is necessary.

“It was me,” I state calmly. I look directly at Mr. Hasworth. I spare a glance for Gloria and Claire and Mrs. Johnson, and I make my stand. “I tricked Alex into everything. I'm the one you want here. Let them go.”

I smile as evilly and as villainous as I can. The mob trades conflicted looks, whether to believe me or not. Never mind the fact that that’s not how it works at all. But they wouldn’t know that. They only believe what they want to, what they must, otherwise they’ll have to face the fact that we’re real people, people that they’ve hurt endlessly for years, for decades. That we’re not witches or demons or sick, mentally ill people, but human. I do what I must, I can only hope that Alex will follow along. To protect both herself and Todd. So that they can be safe. So that they can have the future that we always dreamed about. Because that’s the only escape they have.

After a few moments of consideration, Mr. Hasworth nods slowly and seems to have made a decision. He takes a single step forward and reaches into his coat. At first, I think that it must be some kind of whistle, to alert the police, or maybe a baton, to beat me with. I shudder at the thought. But both guesses are wrong. It’s something much worse. Mr. Hasworth proceeds to draw out a gun. And he raises his arm to point it at me.

The people around him don’t move. Some are surprised, but they don’t do anything to stop it. The children seem fascinated by the long black object that he holds in his hands. They’ve never seen a gun before and I’m not sure if they even realize what’s happening. I remember the inscription on that damn watch. Death is inevitable. And I understand. This is inevitable. 

“I know that what you are is unnatural, a blight on this world,” Mr. Hasworth takes a breath, and then he narrows his eyes. “You are sick. And diseases must be put down.”

The next few seconds flew past in slow motion. 

Mr. Hasworth pulls the trigger. 

His finger moves so slowly.

The bullet leaves the gun and races towards its target.

I turn. I see the bullet soar past me. He is aiming for me. 

But he misses.

Todd screams. He covers his ears and squeezes his eyes shut. 

I run to him. I’m too late. 

The bullet tears through him. And splatters my white dress with blood. With his blood. With Todd’s blood. 

And he falls.

A void opens up inside of me. And I swear I can hear something crack, like a mirror, in, my very soul. 

Alex moves. She moves so quickly that I don’t register.

She screams.

Mr. Hasworth shrugs, like he might as well finish the job. And he pulls the trigger again. And the bullet leaves the gun again. 

And she lands on the ground in front of me. And everything is quiet. 

I can see my reflection in a puddle on the ground. My dress is soaked in blood with patches of white showing through. Tears are streaming down my face. And my mouth is torn open, mid-scream. I can’t breathe. They’re gone. They’re gone. They’re gone. I can’t. Nothing matters. The world turns gray and dull and miserable and horrible and lost and sorrowful and into nothing. I can’t. I cry. And I cry. I have been ripped open and something has been torn out. Not something, everything. I look into Alex’s cold, unmoving, grass-green eyes. They’re not moving. She’s not moving. I can’t. They’re gone. They’re gone. They’re gone. Todd's little face is expressionless and blank. I can’t. He’s covered in blood. They both are. This can’t be real. This CAN’T be real. I can’t. No. No. NO. They’re gone. Alex’s ring fell off when she crawled to her son. It’s lost in the puddle of her blood. They’re gone. I can’t breathe. I look up at Mr. Hasworth. At the people who stand and gape, though no one moves to help. No one even lifts a finger. They stare at me as though I’m a rabid animal. As though I am less than a person. As though I am nothing except a monster. 

And something inside me shatters. 

And I break. 

I move slowly to my knees and push myself up. 

“Well,” Mr. Hasworth’s face is grim, but without a single sign of guilt, or regret. “That was unfortunate. The child didn’t haven’t to die, I’m afraid he just got in the way.”

I see red. All I see is red. Their blood. I see Mr. Hasworth’s face, grinning at me. I see Jim staring down at me, the arrogant bastard. I see Mr. Jackson and Mr. Smith’s disdainful looks. I see Gloria eyeing me like some dirty piece of trash. I see Mrs. Johnson’s satisfied look, her arrogant one, as if I got exactly what I deserved. As if I deserve this. They all look at me like that. As if I deserve for my world to be ripped away from me. As if I deserve to be torn down to nothing. As though I deserve to lose everything I have ever cared about. Every kind remark or compliment. Every laugh. Every smile. As though I deserve to lose it all. Mr. Hasworth sighs. 

“I suppose,” Mr. Hasworth says, cocking his head, staring at me. “That’s it’s your turn now.”

I see his finger move.

I hear the gunshot.

I see the crowd watch eagerly, to see another witch fall.

I hear the kids laughing, taunting me, with a name they made up. It’s not even clever really. 

I taste the salt of the ocean in the air.

I smell the smoke from the factories all over the city.

I see Todd’s innocent smile. 

I hear Alex’s laughter.

But I feel nothing.

The bullet hits me. And I feel nothing. 

I fall into the abandoned alleyway mirror, it shatters under me. And I feel nothing. 

And I die. 

And then, for the first time in a long time, I wake up.

They will never change. They will never stop. They take and they take and they take. They took a boy, only nine years old. A child. Our child. They took my love. They took my life. They took my world. And so I’ll take theirs. 

I watch you. All day. Everyday. From shattered mirrors and cracked glass. From the places where you feel the most safe. Waiting for someone, for you, to call my name. To taunt me. To laugh and smile. To beckon me. Because I would only ever come if called. I always make sure to give you that kindness, the kindness that you had never given me. The chance at the future that you stole. I try to move on. But every time I hear my name, the name you gave me, I come. You took my time. You took my future. You took my everything. But you never will ever again. That is a promise. 

Sometimes I see a woman in need and help, and think that you could change, that you all could change. But you don’t. Most of you laugh. Most of you don’t care and you never will. In my death, I still hear those children chanting. I still hear them call my name. I still hear Alex scream and I still hear Todd die. I come for you in the dark, in the cold. I make you afraid. I make you scream. Like you did me. I tear you to shreds. I rip you apart. All the while, I still hear those children call my name with childlike glee. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. 

Death is inevitable. 

But pain isn’t. 

And you will feel mine.