No room for regret

Vanilla or Chocolate, seemingly inconsequential, but right now this is the biggest decision I’ve ever had to make. What if I choose one and don’t like it? What if I have to throw it away, I wouldn’t want to waste money. What if I take the last one and someone else wants it?

“Come on man, there's a long line behind you and I don't have all day. Choose a donut and move it along.” 

I looked up to meet the seller's eyes, annoyance was etched in every line on his face. I looked down quickly.

“You know what, I lost my appetite. You have a good one”

I put my head down lower and sped away from the counter, but not before I heard him grumble a curse. This was the way my days went by, not being able to decide on the smallest things and regretting the decisions I did make. The best things in life are those that don’t require a choice. 

-------------------------

The morning of the 5th was the day that my friend was taking me to the mall, a date that she’ll always remember. 

“Do you wanna come? It’ll be so much fun I promise,” She had said over the phone, she was being way too loud. I hated shopping but I didn’t want her to think I was a bad friend. 

“I- I mean I don’t have any plans… I'll call you back and let you know ok?” As usual, I had no idea what to do. 

“No, El. You're coming. I’m picking you up on Tuesday, end of story. K’ I gotta go now. Bye, can't wait!” she hung up before I had the chance to say anything more. 

So here I was running from store to store, letting the bubbly girl beside me throw things that were “cute” into my arms. In the end, I didn’t buy anything. The choice was too hard and there was no point wasting money. She, on the other hand, walked out having purchased half of their stock. We sat down, exhausted, on a bench near the shops. She immediately began to fill the silence with stories of this and that. I listened half heartedly while watching the people that swarmed around us. The other shoppers were chattering enthusiastically creating a backdrop of noise.. One man in particular caught my eye. He was tall and muscular, dressed in jeans and a black jacket. His hood was up and there was a bulk in his back pocket. He was the only one walking without a partner. He looked around almost nervously and was walking way too fast to be natural. He turned his face in my direction, but seemed to look right through me. He couldn’t have been older than 20. He headed into a store, the door swinging shut behind him. 

My friend sprang up from the bench. “Let's shop around a little more. We can go there,” she said, pointing “they have the cutest clothes!” 

I followed her finger to see that she was indicating the store that the man had gone into. She pulled me along, one hand grasping four different colored bags and the other hooked around my elbow. I laughed and let her steer me to the shop, already knowing that no money would be spent here either. I opened the door to be greeted by a blast of cold air. The cameras that usually blinked red in the corners of every shop didn’t have their signature light. My gut turned, something seemed off with the very atmosphere around us. Instinct told me to leave, to turn and run, but I ignored it. Everything was fine, I was probably overreacting. My friend began to pull me to the shelves that lined either side of the checkout area. The man was making his way to that very counter, his brows and mouth set in determination. He came from the door. I glanced at it, there was a chain binding the handles closed. It was secured by a lock. I furrowed my brows in confusion. I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it. Should I say something? What if I’m wrong? Everyone will blame me for a false alarm. I looked back at him, he stood still in front of the counter. As I watched, he reached into his back pocket and I knew, inexplicably, unexplainably, what was going to happen. He pulled out a gun.

The man, boy really, pointed the device at the woman behind the counter. I was standing right next to him, he probably didn’t even know. The shop went silent, every head turned toward the scene. The whole world slowed, I could hear every breath of air, every beat of my heart. Then I heard what I would never unhear. 

BANG! He fired his gun. 

Someone screamed.

It was probably me

He turned and looked straight into my eyes. The shop was thrown into chaos. Everybody was running to the door trying to get out. He held my gaze, trapping me in the moment. His skin was bone white and dotted with sweat. Regret was painted over every feature and his expression screamed of fear. I might have felt sorry, except he had just murdered that woman. She was never coming back, she didn’t get to feel regret or fear and that was his fault. The connection broke and he swiveled back around to collect the cash he had come for.

While he was busy figuring out how to open the cash register, I regained my senses. I rushed to the door, joining the crowd that was already clustered there. Blue and red light flashed from outside, sirens cut through the air. 

“Come out with your hands in the air. This doesn’t have to end in a mess.” An officer stood with a megaphone in one hand, his other resting on his holster. Three cars stood behind him with 2 officers on either side. They had their guns out and trained at the shop. 

The man cursed and hurried to the door. A bag filled with stolen money lay abandoned near the dead woman. The shoppers parted to let him through. He looked out at the police cars and cursed again. His eyes darted from the money to the policemen outside, he was clearly in distress. We stood watching him, terrified of his next move. He came to a decision and reached an arm into the crowd. Strong fingers wrapped around my arm, pulling me to his side. He held me firmly but didn’t point the gun at me. It was held limp at his side instead. Panic had started to creep through me, freezing me in place. The officer angled his mouth to the radio strapped to his shoulder and spoke into it before straightening again. 

“Let the hostages go. I’m giving you one chance before things get bad,” he spoke confidently, there was no doubt shaking his voice. 

“Fine! I’ll let them go. They can all leave! But not this one,” he gestured toward me with the device he still held, “if you want her safe, you’ll have to let me go too!”

He went to the door and unlocked it, pulling the chain away and pushing it open. The crowd began to run out, and true to his word he didn’t shoot at them. His gun was trained on me instead, holding me in place. My friend glanced back before running out with the rest. 

The officers began moving toward the still open door, and the man moved closer to me. The officers stood about 3 feet from him and he stood about a foot from me. All of the policemen had their weapons trained on the thief. He had his weapon trained on them now. No one had a weapon trained on me. 

I could run.

If I run I could die.

If I run I could live.

 I saw everything slowly. The main officer began to push the trigger. The man saw him and began to redirect his gun. The time to decide was now. There was no room for regret. 

Run, stay, run, stay, run, stay

His gun was still turning, I was almost within its target range.

Run, stay, run, stay, run

I was right in front of it. The officer was squeezing his trigger tighter, so was the man. He was going to shoot before the officer could.

Run, stay

He was a millimeter away from shooting.

RUNRUNRUNRUN

My legs began to move-

BANG