Dark in the City

This story contains sensitive content including, substance abuse, and minimal physical/sexual violence

It happened on a quiet winter night. The snow was so heavy all day that it left no place for cars with their motors, people to make noise, and no bird or bug for anyone to hear. The temperature had gone up just enough on Monday afternoon to allow the winter storm watch to become a warning for all five boroughs and gave Sophie a reason to leave early. Sophie, who was grateful to have had half the day off and to be home, but she was sad too. She threw her coat and bag onto a table, sat down, turned on the T.V., and started thinking about Daniella.

The entire year had seemed like one miserable thing after another, but nothing could have prepared her for the day about two months ago when her father called to tell her that her younger sister Daniella had OD'd and was in the I.C.U. at St. Francis’s. After that phone call, Sophie rushed to the hospital and joined her family in the waiting room.

After two long hours, a nurse came out to them. She walked Sophie, her parents, her sister Shelly, and her brother Gabe to the I.C.U. where a doctor was waiting to talk to them. Daniella was brain dead, and the doctor told them to say their goodbyes.

When it was her turn to say goodbye, Sophie noticed that Daniella was still wearing the chain with the cross on it that she gave her for her last birthday, her 26^th birthday. Sophia screamed, and began shaking. She had to let her brothers take her out of the room. She shouldn’t have been this shocked, but she was.

Both their parents had been going to Al-Anon for years to try to help Daniella. Their two older brothers, Frank and Gabe, their Aunt Stephanie, Sophie, and some of their cousins had taken her in when she had no place to go. Daniella had gone to two rehabs and several private counselors. The counselors at the methadone clinic knew her well too. Even the priest from their church, Blessed Sacrament, had tried to help her, how could this happen?

All of us, at one time or another, wanted to help her either get clean or stay clean for the past four years, even when everyone told us it was hopeless unless Daniella wanted it bad enough. Sophie guessed not and joined a grief group that met every Thursday at 7 pm to help her stop blaming herself for not doing enough. Sophie snapped out of her dismal thoughts and turned on the news.

People were losing their jobs by the thousands; others were sick or dying, and nearly everyone was either afraid, offended, angry, or had some other negative emotion going on. Another person shot a cop, other cops quit or took early retirement, and crime was going up.

“And a lot of that crime was caused by drugs, stupid, stupid drugs!” Sophie said out loud, pointing to the news anchor whose “livelihood,” Sophie pondered, “depended on chaos and tragedy and when the ratings were down, they would create it, I’m sure.” At last, the weather report was on, Sophie breathed in and out, the way they told her to do at the group to relax. The snow would continue until tapering off around ten pm.

Sophie recalled her parents telling her stories of growing up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan and how hard they worked with Sophie’s grandparents to make a better life for themselves and their children. Seeing the news these days was more depressing than ever. Sophie turned off the T.V., leaned back in her old velvet recliner that was the color of the clearest sky, and pulled a soft throw blanket up to her neck, still watching the steady snowfall from her apartment window and drifted off to sleep.

It was still dark when she woke up, got dressed, and put on her fur lined coat. She walked to the M line and sat on a bench waiting to meet a friend, a tall, dark stranger who would take her out of there.

There were only a few other people in the station, and Sophie, who had been waiting for at least ten minutes, began reading the messages written in spray paint all around her. They were mostly just pictures except for one that read, “REPENT.” Right underneath “REPENT!” her tall, dark stranger stood, then began walking toward her. They joined hands and boarded the underground train. When the doors slid open at 2nd street, Sophie and her stranger stepped off and out of the station, then walked toward the park.

She needed to talk to this friend before he had to leave, and they made their way into the park. The lights from uptown and one working streetlight were their only way of seeing their way along the skimpy rock paths through Roosevelt Park. The graffiti and trash could not be seen under the thick blanket of snow in the park; it looked nice.

She pulled the lining of her coat further up over the back of her neck. The wind had picked up, but at least the snow had stopped. She and her friend began talking about the problems in the country, her sister, and everything else going on in her life. Her tall, dark stranger only listened, and that’s what she needed, and he knew her long enough to know that. They hugged each other, and her friend left as quickly as he came.

Sophie continued walking alone until finally, a bright light near a stadium nearly knocked her over. She shielded her eyes and noticed an enormous crowd gathering in the street. Sophie wondered what was going on. The entire scenario was bizarre, “and the weirdest part,” she thought, “is that I can’t hear a thing.” She reached her hand up to her ear and snapped her fingers to be sure she hadn’t lost her hearing. She heard them snap, and that was a relief.

A few minutes later, the city came back to life. She noticed a drug deal going down across the street and another two or three further down. A woman began screaming from somewhere, and then Sophie heard two gunshots. Right near the crowd, two men were assaulting a woman. “Are they going to do anything?” she thought.

The crowd was doing something, she couldn’t tell what it was, and she still couldn’t hear anything. It wasn’t that there was no noise though, it was just that nobody was talking. The world was going crazy; everyone became like zombies. “I should get back home,” she thought, but watching the people gathered around this bright light had made her far too curious to leave. Their unwillingness to speak; however, made her furious. She yelled across to them, “Hey! Are you stupid? You must speak about this, or no one will! Listen to me and learn!” No one listened, they didn’t want it enough.

There were so many people that when they began chanting so loud, the air seemed to be vibrating. She suddenly felt her stomach drop. They were worshipping a sign that was lit up with words that said, “WARNING!” “Yea, she whispered to herself, “warning.” She said it a few more times and then opened her eyes. The blanket had made its way onto the floor, obviously her sleep wasn’t restful lately, nor were her dreams.

She heard a siren in the distance.