Fighting Fish
My split mind races to weigh the pros and cons as Sabina looks at me concerned. I want to tell her, but I realise that I can't. "I think I ate something bad." "Damn, are you OK?" "Yeah I'll be fine... I just need to go." I stumble out of the bar in a daze and start walking, too lost in my thoughts to consider a direction, when it starts to rain. I run into a nearby bus shelter and pull my phone out to Uber to see my battery die. I sit for a while listening to the howling wind and rain, with nothing to distract me from my tangled mind. I realise in a shatteringly clear moment that I should have told her. He has the advantage now. Maybe that's childish competitiveness, but I can't shake the feeling that my choice was a huge rock thrown into a still pond, wide reaching ripples of consequences are already in motion. Through the blinding rain I see the 429 bus coming toward me, and l leap out to frantically wave it down. It doesn't stop. I knew Mark was capable of some shady shit but I had underestimated him. I've been in forests less shady then Mark Piers. With everything telling me not to, I stand and fight through the panic to walk back to the bar. At the final crossing I see them storm out of the double doors and into the street fighting. I watch for a moment as they scream through the rain, their gestures and body language becoming wilder, as if trying to brush off the elements beating down on them. That was the moment I realised the first time I saw Sabina wasn't at the aquarium, it was Malabar. The dark haired girl eating Naan and smiling. She's been dating Mark for months. I shiver as a bead of rain slides down my eyelash, my shirt clinging to my skin. Sabina's hands flail wildly as she spits venom at him. She put it together. She knows Mark is my ex. I start to cross the road when I see Mark's face go dark. I'm halfway across the road when I see her turn away from him. She sees me and we lock eyes, I see her anger slip into softness. I see Mark push her. I see the car coming. I see her body flung into the air and spin like a ragdoll. I feel myself vomit. That's all I remember.
"That's good" my therapist coos at me. "That's the most detail you've remembered so far, that's great work. Now have you thought of a passion project yet?" The passion project was a healing tool meant to empower me, give me purpose and direction. I thought it was all bullshit until I found one, and now I'm a person born anew. I got in touch with Mark when the 6 month probation sentence for Sabina's 'accidental death' was made public. I feel all the pain from the trial melt away standing on the street in the warm winter sunshine, admiring the perfectly polished rims and new windshield of my beautiful car. I feel calm as I hear a roaring engine approaching. The stress of parking it here weekly has paid off. I see Mark walking towards me and I throw the keys through the air, he catches them smiling. He always loved my car. "Glad there's no hard feelings, Mel" He calls out walking to the drivers side door, but I'm already walking away as the black Plymouth pulls up.