Tossed by the tornado

My feet were stuck like they are exclusively being pulled by gravity. I wanted to run towards him and hug him, real tight, tell him how much I missed him. Either this or I would simply walk back to where I came from and pretend that I never saw him. But that won't work; he is standing there right in front of me, smiling at me.

All these years I spent fixing my life together after that horrific incident, putting all the pieces together, thinking he was dead. All that effort I made to get my life back on track seems worthless. I only gulped down those anti-depressants so I could move on. But it was of no use, he's right there.

Paul sensed my dilemma from across the street like he could read my mind even after 3 years of staying away. So he took the decision for me and began to advance towards me. Gravity still holding on to me tight.

After what felt like an eternity, he was standing right in front of me and I could feel the rhythm of his breath. I believe he could hear my heart beating against my ribcage. And just like that, he engulfed me in a hug and we kissed each other. With every stroke of our tongues, telling how much we missed each other. His hands caressing my back and my hips, screaming his claim on me. I don't know what I am doing. I don't know if it is right or wrong. Sometimes your actions don't have any logical explanation, and for people who are looking at you think you are insane for doing the things your heart tells you to do.

"Emily", someone called and I was pulled back into reality. My heart stopped right there and fear gripped me.

Peter was standing there, startled. Looking at me and Paul angrily and confused. He had every right to stare at us like this, after all, who would want their fiancé, kissing a stranger, in the middle of the street, a week before their wedding.

Peter pushed Paul, separating us and began to hit him, and I kept shouting that he should stop but it was like, he could not hear me at all.

Paul didn't hit him back or even try to stop him. Which made Peter angrier.

"Stop right now, Peter, or I will call the cops." Words flew out of my mouth.

Peter looked at me, with concern and anger and some otherworldly emotion I could not decipher.

We were standing there, our eyes trying to express what our hearts felt. Tears welled up in our eyes, and everything else got blurry.

After telling his tale of betrayal through his eyes, Peter walked past me giving me a look that made me drown in shame and embarrassment.

I didn't know what to do, should I run back to Peter and save our relationship and give hope to the person who helped me back on my feet after I was hopeless. He was the one who pulled me out of the dark. Or should I stay here with Paul, the man who introduced me to love, he was there with me when my life was a rollercoaster ride.

I looked down at Paul, he was covered in blood, the street lights allowed me to watch that much. More than anything else, he needed medical assistance right away, so I pulled him up to his feet and putting his arm around me I took him to my apartment across the street.

I opened the door and made him sit on Mrs. Simon's couch. I ran upstairs to my room and brought the first aid box and gave him a glass of water. Sitting on the table right in front of him, I began to wipe his wounds.

"Why didn't you stop him?" I asked him full of curiosity.

He looked at me intently, "he wouldn't hit me if he didn't care for you, and how can I hit someone for taking care of you?"

His answer took me back three years.

Paul was the only thing that was stable in my life. My parents never got along well. My father would get home drunk and hit my mother every single night.

 Paul used to live in an abandoned house right behind our house, he had no father and his mother's boyfriend asked him to leave their house as soon as he turned 18.

The house he lived in was not in good condition, it was very old. Every afternoon when my mom and dad were not home I would make something for him to eat and either he would come to my house or sometimes I went there, this way I knew what things he needed and I would do my best to smuggle them to him.

Everything changed when the tornado struck that night, no one saw it coming, I wonder why we were not warned, or if we were why didn't we take it seriously.

Paul went back to his humble dwelling after having lunch with me before my parents came back home. And when they did I went inside my room and fell asleep writing in my journal. Until I woke up to the sound of muffled screaming, I ran downstairs and saw my father strangulating my mother, her face was towards me and I could see the dread in her eyes when she saw me standing there and watching her in this condition. My father saw her expressions change; he turned around and saw me looking at them like this. Immediately he left her and began to walk towards me, my mother yelled at the top of her voice and asked me to run away.

I couldn't think of anything else and the nearest place was the basement door right next to me, so I went inside, scared and confused. "Open the door, you little piece of crap." He began to shout and thumped the door firmly.

I was so scared that I ran down to the basement and hid in an old cupboard lying there.

After a while, the thumping stopped and I could hear him walking back towards the living room, where my mom was. I was panic-stricken and petrified, above all, I felt so downhearted that what should I do to save my mom and myself from that beast out there. I was also perplexed that whether I should help her or listen to what she said and save myself. However, I decided to stay there. Sobbing, drenching myself in hopelessness.

All that crying made me feel dizzy, I fell asleep and woke up to the sounds of stifled bangs, thumps, thunder, and rumble. I thought something between my parents went terribly wrong this time so I ran towards the staircase and made my way to the door. I tried to open it but I could not. After a while, I decided to call out my mom and dad but my voice was buried under the sound coming from the other side of the door. Knocking and banging the door didn't do any good either.

My eyes felt so heavy like someone put rocks on my eyelids. I tried to open them and saw a lady standing in front of me, everything blurry. I looked at my hand, which was being fed by a drip slowly, drop by drop.

"Mom?" I murmured with all my strength. She didn't answer.

"Mom? Mom? Mom? Where are you?"

The lady came back, now I could tell that she is a nurse, not someone I know. She called the doctor and he came immediately. He drilled something in the pouch hanging beside me.

 And I dozed off.

"Emily, everything will be alright." I heard someone say. I gazed around and my Nanna was sitting beside me, weeping.

"Where is mom?" I asked her full of discontent with the environment around me.

"Sweetheart, I am here to pick you up. You will be living with me in Brooklyn from now on."

I was still confused.

I don't know how many days I was there. But I moved to Brooklyn with my Nanna. She answered most of my questions, all except for one. But there was no point in asking her about Paul, nobody knew about him.

My mom and dad were no more. Because of the tornado, the roof of our house fell and they were found dead by the rescuers. They found me in the basement. The door on which I was leaning, waiting for someone to open it for me-fell on me, my head was injured badly. I stayed in that hospital for a long time. Most of our neighborhood was turned into rubble. Knowing that the house Paul was living in was antique and feeble, I elucidated that he also perished like most of the people in that area.

I looked at the man sitting in front of me, covered in blood, which he shed because of his love for me, and also out of respect for the people I chose to spend my life with after I left that brash town.

"Where were you all these years? How did you survive the storm? And how did you find me?"

All these questions flowed from the back of my head through my mouth into the air around us. They popped up in my head the moment my eyes caught the glimpse of him. But I didn't get any chance to bring them up.

Before he could answer any of them, I heard the door creak open. And footsteps drawing near towards where I and Paul were sitting. Peter stood in front of me, his eyes full abashment and disarray.

I knew I had no explanation of any of my actions because they were far from rationality.

"Why? Emily Why? Why would you do this to me?" his rage and humiliation unveiling with every word coming out of his mouth.

" Why would you betray me with a stranger right after we celebrated our engagement?"

Tears rolled down my cheeks and I didn't know how to respond.

Peter didn't wait for me to give him an explanation; he turned towards Paul and pulled him up from the couch by his collar. In a blink of an eye, I found him hitting Paul again.

I headed towards them and try to stop him but he was unstoppable, he pushed me aside without looking at me. My head hit the table I was sitting on.

*****************

"Paul? Are you okay? Where did you go? Please don't leave me again." I was shouting frantically, sobbing at the same time. Drowned in sweat.

I was wearing a white gown, as people in hospitals do. My hands were tied and I could not move. "Help me!" I screamed.

A guy in a blue shirt and trousers came in.

"Where am I? And why have you tied me?"

He ran outside without answering any of my questions and a man in a white lab coat came in. He forcefully sedated me with something and my eyes became heavy, my screaming turned into whispers.

"It's been four years since that tornado hit her hometown, a single incident can toss people's lives upside down. No medicines are helping her get any better. She keeps shouting Paul's name in dreams. No one came to ask for her since then. What a shame, she is stuck in a mental hospital" I heard the nurse tell this to the doctor, or I think this is what he said.

I was dreaming.