NIP 11

There is a shadow. The shadow is standing…is alive! Aunt Clara? Oh my god. I stop frozen in my tracks. I am making eye contact with Mark. He is as white as ghost heading out of the kitchen door.

“Mark?” I lock on familiar eyes. I shiver as they fade to an unfamiliar shade of blue.

“Get out of here Sari!” Mark hisses.

“What? No, Mark. Where is Aunt Clara?” My right knee bends to step forward to Mark. My arms reach in front of me for him. He shakes his head ‘no’. He doesn’t want me near him. My eyes plead with his to have me.

Screeching sirens pierce my eardrums and snap me back to reality. An invisible hand on my face creates resistance as I try to lower my head…my sight to the ground. I push with all my might through the resistance…I will force my neck to turn…there is something on the floor. I sense it. I must see it. The invisible hand lets go, my head lowers, my hands clinch my stomach as a blood hurling scream escapes my soul.

Brad rapidly drops to the ground and carefully touches Aunt Clara. He searches for a pulse. I cannot move. I stand, hovered over, holding my stomach…afraid to let to the next moment of my life happen. Please be alive Aunt Clara. Please move!

“Mark! Do not leave this room!” Brad points a bloody finger at Mark.

Mark slowly raises his arms. The rest of his body is still.

“What the fuck happened here Mark? What are you doing here?” Brad aggressively questions as he attempts CPR on Aunt Clara.

“Breath! Aunt Clara breath!” I fall to the ground. I take her hand in mind. I kiss it. I rub her hand on my cheek. “It’s me Aunt Clara. It’s Sari. Please wake up.”

Brad repeatedly pumps her chest so hard. I hear her ribs crack. Blood splatters on my face. My tears drop on her antique emerald ring. I stare into the emerald. It was my mom’s ring.

I glance over to Mark. Pure horror is written on his face. I stretch my arm out to him. I pull it back in shock as six armed officers storm in the room. They build a wall between Mark and I. The officers swarm the room and hurriedly begin their investigation. I feel like I am an invisible extra in Law & Order.

“Apprehend him! I’m Detective Callahan and this is part of a Cook County investigation.” Shouts Brad, he shifts the officers attention to Mark. Brad is bent over Aunt Clara trying everything he can to revive.

“No, no. I’m the one who called the police.” Bellows Mark. “I’m a relative.”

“Fuck! Just get them both out of here NOW!” Brad pounds his fist into the ground next to Aunt Clara’s head.

“Brad…what…no” I refuse to let go of Aunt Clara. I refuse to give up. An officer has his hands in my armpits trying to pull me away from Aunt Clara. I press my body into the ground with all of my weight. Dead weight. “No, no.”

“Sari, please. I am so sorry honey. Please step outside.” Mark whispers in my ear and strokes my hair. “Please.”

I sob. I slowly let go of Aunt Clara’s hand. It limply falls to her side. I grab my head with my bloody hands and choke on my tears. Mark lifts me to my feet. He hugs his body to mind and we make our way down the hall full of police officers and ultimately out of my childhood home.

“Mark! Mark!” I cry. “What is happening? Thank god you knew I would be here.”

“Baby, my baby. I’m so sorry.” Mark holds me so tight. I never want to let go. I want to stay safely in these arms forever. “You’re shaking.”

“And Ainslie. Why is this happening to us?” I lay my head on his shoulder.

“Ainslie?” I think I hear him ask.

“Mark.” Brad comes running out of the house at full speed towards us. “We need to talk.”

“Brad. Calm down. I am the one who called the police. I beat you guys here and this is what I found.” Mark says very casually. His composed manner is like osmosis and I become a tiny bit stable. I stand on my own two feet.

“What are you doing!” roars Mark as Brad rummages through Mark's pockets. “This is highly illegal Brad. You know this!”

“What is this?” Brad pays zero attention to Mark’s accusations.

Mark doesn’t answer the question. He just stands there like a deer in headlights.

“Where did you get this?” Brad barks directly into Mark’s face.

My heart races. Brad is holding another picture. Another tattered photograph. Ohmigod, I feel myself sway from my revelation. These crimes are related. They are. They must be. I fear I now know for certain.

“Let me see…” I try to snatch the picture from Brad. He removes if from my reach.

“What is this?!?” Brad shoves Mark backwards. “Answer me.”

“I found it on Clara.” Mark swallows as he catches his stumble.

“Why did you take it?” Brad asks without hesitation.

“I don’t know.” Flails Mark. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it had anything to do with anything.”

“Wrong.” Bullies Brad. “You must think I am one stupid son of a bitch. You are a defense attorney.”

“Brad.” I butt in with obvious concern in my voice. He is treating Mark so unfairly. I put my arm around Mark to show he has my support.

Brad rolls his eyes and steps aside to talk to a group of police officers. Mark and I stand in silence, looking away from each other.

“Sari, you go upstairs to your room.” Orders Brad. These words I once hated to hear blanket me with comfort. “Do not leave or do anything without checking in with me.”

“She’s a grown woman.” Says Mark with a squeeze of my hand.

“She is in danger.” Brad retorts matter of factly. A yelp sneaks out my throat. Danger? “Mark, you come with me.”

I creep past all the officers with my ears closed. I do not want to know what has happened. Not yet. I pray Aunt Clara is alive and will survive. As far as I know she is alive and I want to keep it that way.

I open the door to my childhood bedroom. It is filled with so many memories. I smell my youth, my sisters, my Aunt. Aunt Clara raised me and my sisters. She gave me her love and support. She gave us everything. All of her. She loves in a way I may never understand. She is selfless. Raising her sister’s daughters as her own. There is no way in hell she is responsible for any of this. She gave up her life for us.

I lay on my bed. I cradle my face in my pillow. I wish it was the summer before my junior year. I was laying here with my face in this pillow crying over Drew Milligen breaking up with me. Aunt Clara sat next me, rubbing my back and explaining to me it was his loss. She sat here for 4 hours reciting all of my good qualities and laughing off the questionable ones. I need you now Aunt Clara. So does Lizi.

Lizi! I scramble for my phone. No calls. Lizi has not called me back. I jump off my bed. Shit! My hands violently shudder as I dial Lizi’s number. It’s ringing. Answer! Answer!