See me

“I just wanted you to see me,” said Zach into his phone's camera.

Tonight had not gone as planned. In truth, nothing in Zach’s life had ever gone as planned. His life was a never ending loop of attempts and failures. A vicious, cruel cycle that tore off piece after piece until it vomited out an egoless sack of nothingness. At the very least that cycle was going to end tonight.

It wasn’t the ending that Zach had ever hoped for, but it was the one he was going to get. That was for sure, that was the only thing that was for sure now. All he could do was attempt one more thing, maybe, just maybe this attempt would work. Maybe she would finally see him.

“This way,” hollered out a man. His voice echoed off the high, uneven ceiling and bounced off the various art covered walls of the museum. “Just follow the trail of blood.”

Zach looked around at the interior of the pompous building. He had always held a deep disdain for the Aurora Art Museum. People would often call it the Cat’s Eye. It was designed by some fancy famous artist and made to resemble a pixelated version of a cat’s eye. But all Zach ever saw when he drove by the gaudy building was an obtrusive eye sore.

He had always hated it. Always hated the artists that were hung inside of it as well. A bunch of haughty elitist sellouts. All of them. He could have been a great artist. That was his plan. He had talent. He had potential, but of course he failed. Just like he failed tonight.

“They’re coming for me,” whispered Zach into the phone. “It really didn’t have to be this way. I just wanted to prove to you that I was different. That I wasn’t just some creep like all these losers on here. I’m real. We could’ve been great together. I hope you know that. I hope that you know that you caused all of this. You just had to reply. That’s all. One little reply. Would it have been so hard, but you didn’t. Now whatever happens is because of you.”

Such a simple plan. It should have worked. It always worked in the comics and TV shows. All he had to do was cut a hole in the glass ceiling, propel down and take the painting. Easy. But nothing in Zach’s life was ever easy.

Everything started going wrong right off the bat. He couldn’t find the rope anywhere. He went to three different sporting goods stores and four different hardware stores. When he had exhausted that avenue he turned to online stores, but none of them could deliver in time. The Kulu Onya exhibit was only in town for three more days. So he went to plan B. He stole a water hose from a neighbor.

After that he needed to find something to cut the glass. He figured a diamond saw, or something along those lines. Until he saw the prices of such instruments. His meager bank account couldn’t afford it. So he had to settle again. This time he landed upon just using a simple hammer and breaking the glass.

Next he had to figure out how to scale the horrifically shaped building. He spent an entire day searching the perimeter of the building for some way to scale it. As the day neared its end he realized that it would be an impossibility to climb the building. Still determined he figured he could use the same method as the vloggers on social media who simply stayed in a bathroom until the building closed for the night.

So he waited in a bathroom stall, awkwardly sitting with his knees pressed to his chest for hours. Only to be discovered by some pesky janitor. Promptly he was escorted out by security.

He went home that night defeated. He spent hours scrolling through Nurv@na. He went through Rebecca Lowe’s post over and over. He loved her. She was perfect. They shared the same humor, interest, and experiences. She was everything that he ever wanted and he knew deep down that he could be everything that she ever wanted. He just needed to prove himself to her. If he could just steal one of Kulu Onya’s painting then she would see him.

He couldn’t just give up. His mind whirled with possibilities. Then he remembered the high visibility vest he had from a construction job. No one ever questioned anyone wearing a high visibility vest, they always just assumed they were a worker, doing something important. He would wear the vest, act as if he was fixing something, anything within the museum and no one would stop him.

The next night that was what he did. He walked right in and was able to stay even after the museum closed. The same janitor that had stopped him the night before walked right past. The same security guard simply gave him a nod.

It was working, something in his life was finally going as planned. It was destiny for him to steal the painting. It was destiny for him to end up with Rebecca Lowe. It just had to be.

Eventually he found himself standing in front of three paintings. The Kulu Onya exhibit. The famous three paintings that the Kulu Onya Challenge was centered upon, the same three paintings that had catapulted Rebecca Lowe to stardom. All he had to do was take one.

He liked the first painting that depicted a sandy beach at sunset. He could imagine himself and Rebecca sitting at a beach one day. Enjoying margaritas as they laughed and joked and reflected upon how Zach had stolen her heart. 

The painting was bigger than Zach had anticipated. Four feet wide and six feet tall. It took all his strength to lift the unwieldy thing and carry it just a couple of feet. Those couple feet were all he got.

“Hey what are you doing?” Zach didn’t even need to turn around. He knew it was the security guard. He remembered his voice from the night before.

Zach was too close to abandon the painting now. It was also impossible for him to run with the awkward object. But he couldn’t just give up now. No, he needed to fight. Fight for love.

He turned towards the security guard who slowly backed away while reaching for the gun holstered on his hip. It was now or never. Zach rushed the man. The security guard withdrew his pistol and fired. Zach didn’t stop. He barreled into the security officer. They wrestled one another on the ground until eventually Zach was able to rip away the firearm. He stood over the security officer. The barrel of the pistol pointed directly at the helpless man’s head.

“Please don’t,” he pleaded.

Zach couldn’t. He wasn’t a killer. So he ran. He ran and ran until he got lost. It was only then as he sat with his back leaning against a bare wall, did he realize that he had been shot. A bullet had torn right through his stomach. He was bleeding. Badly. It wouldn’t be long now. He had failed once again. Just like he always did.

“I just wanted you to know that I love you Rebecca Lowe,” he said to the camera on his phone.

He could hear the sound of boots running towards him. They were close.

Quickly Zach opened up the Nurv@na app and tried to upload his video. All he had to do was post it and tag Rebecca Lowe. Then he would be seen. Even if it was too late. He would still be seen. But it wasn’t working. The damn museum was blocking his network.

He had no signal.

They were there.

He had no choice.

He had failed again.

He lifted his gun.

They fired.

Zach’s endless loop ended.