Rushing out of the bright yellow cab, I’m ambushed by the sound of busy New Yorkers racing to their destinations. New York- the city that never sleeps- and I have something in common. For the past two weeks, I’ve been terrorized by the same nightmare to the point where I try to stay up all night to escape the dark torment.
Pushing through the uncivil New Yorkers, I walk into the strangely familiar building, feeling like all odds are against me. My lack of sleep bearing cruel consequences: bruise-like circles under my now dull blue eyes, and my usual perfectly straight hair pulled into a wild bun. None helping the fact that I am already 5 minutes late. There is no way I am going to get this internship now.
“Hi, I’m so sorry my name is Rosanna Colombo and I have an interview with Mr. Ricci,” I said scrambling to make myself look presentable at the receptionist desk.
“You’re late. Wait over there,” She dismissed me to the sitting area, judgment dripping off her tone.
I can tell she is bothered by my lack of punctuality. This is one of the most prestigious publishing companies in the city and I am lucky to have even gotten an interview scheduled. Nevertheless, there is nothing I can do about it now, I’m already doomed. Time for Plan B: intern at the first place that accepts me.
I never really had a sense of purpose, I never knew what I wanted to do with my life, but I thought maybe my purpose could be to spread art in the form of literature. That and my love for books being the one reason for applying to such a prestigious company I know I don’t fit in to.
Looking over the office an overwhelming sense of deja vu overtakes me.
“Why is the place so familiar?” I mumble to myself.
People come and go, as I sit in the uncomfortable chair. Is this my punishment for being late? Having to sit in this waiting room that smells like a dentist’s office, on an old wooden chair with a smelly cushion? I think to myself watching the faces that walk by. People-watching has always been a favorite pastime of mine. I love observing people and trying to guess what their life is like.
The lady with gorgeous blond hair and a little mole on her chin, waiting to speak with the rude receptionist is obviously a romance novelist trying to meet with a publisher about her upcoming novel. I guessed.
Continuing to scan faces I spot the man beside the blond romance novelist and immediately catch a weird vibe. It feels like I know him. Trying to get a better look I lean forward and scan his features. When I finally reach his eyes I shudder. The piercing green eyes are the same ones that have tormented my dreams for the last 14 days.
“This can’t be right,” I shivered while having a flashback of the menacing dream.
I have no idea what is going on as I walk out of an unknown room into a long corridor with people rushing past me looking for some form of escape.
“Hey what happening?” I tried to ask the blond lady running past me, but all she did was cry even harder and continued down the corridor.
I tried to go in the direction that the shouting is the loudest trying to find some idea of what’s happening.
But when I reach the waiting room time stops as I take in the scene in front of me. A tall man in a huge bubble coat, with messy dark hair and piercing green eyes, is yelling to the top of his lungs. His eyes were void of all emotion but pure rage. But that’s not what’s frightening.
He has a bomb strapped to his chest and his thumb on a trigger.
“You took away my sally! My baby girl!” The deranged man yells, squeezing the trigger tighter, “She was the most important thing to me, now I’m going to take away the most important thing to you!... This company.”
“Please don’t, I was not responsible for sally. She killed herself. Please It wasn’t me,” A guy in a charcoal business suit begs.
I can only see the back of his head but I know his eyes must be wide with fear.
“It is your fault! You got my sally pregnant then abandoned her! If you would have stepped up and been a man my sally would still be here.” The bomber cried out.
Once I realize what’s going on I tried to run to the nearest exit but everything is in slow motion. This can’t be happening. I can’t die this way. I think as I’m so close to reaching the door.
Right before I touch the handle BOOM then everything goes black.
Coming back into reality I drop my folder filled with my paperwork and stare at this man. The man with the same green eyes and bubble coat zipped up covering his chest. The coat is big enough to hide something as big as a homemade bomb.
Maybe this was my purpose, to help these people, warn them about what is to come.
I immediately get up and start yelling “Leave! Everyone needs to leave!” I point to the man in the bubble coat. “That man has a bomb. Everyone out!”
Everyone looks at me with wide eyes. How am I going to get everyone out of this large building?
“What are y’all doing? Please go!” I reach for my phone to call the cops.
Nervously fumbling with my password I recognize a voice from my dreams “I wouldn’t do that If I were you” the man calls out.
I looked up to see the bomber with his finger already on the trigger slowly unzipping his coat.
Once the workers finally come to their senses they scream and start running in every direction.
“Please don’t do this… Sally would not have wanted this,” My voices cracks as I tried to reason with him.
“How do you know about sally?” He asks genuinely confused.
“I had a vision, this was my purpose. To help you. To save these people. You’re a good man you don’t have to do this. The man who hurt sally will have that on his conscience forever, that’s a fate worse than death. No innocents have to be hurt” I step forward as the people rush past me.
“It’s too late. No premonition can help me now,” He laughs humorlessly as he raises his finger off the trigger.