I was utterly confused. Detective Collins never missed any of my calls before. Weren’t there more detectives there that dealt with different cases? Maybe he was investigating the case right now and he couldn’t pick up? I think I was overthinking this, wasn’t I? I tried to get it off of my mind, but I wasn’t able to, so I asked Tristan if he wanted to go for a walk. He agreed and he limped over towards his crutches and I noticed that he wasn’t limping as much with his cast on. He was healing pretty quickly, it seemed. It was a good sign and it boosted my happiness. I got my jacket and opened the door, grabbing my shoes on the way. “Tristan, you coming or not?” I asked impatiently.
“How about you try putting on everything with only your right hand and with a broken leg?” I giggled and jumped onto the sofa. I looked out my window of the apartment and looked down. Not the best idea in the world. I lived in an apartment that was on the 13th floor and I was scared of heights. Acrophobic Jenna + 13th floor apartment = nothing good. I quickly looked away and cringed at the thought of falling down. “Jenna, you coming or not?” I snapped my neck towards the door and I saw Tristan waiting at the open door smirking at me. I laughed sheepishly and started for the door. I went to the elevator and hit ‘1’. I knew the elevator music by heart now and it was too repetitive. Ba badah badababa doo doo doo doo doo doo doo, la dee dum diddly doo, babidy bapa boppidi boo…. When the elevator stopped at the first floor, I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to hear that more than once more today. I opened the glass door for Tristan and we both started walking on the sidewalk.
We strolled through the streets of Upper East Side, throwing away thoughts of sadness and anxiety and just thinking about the lovely, cold day. We stopped by Subway and got a sub, eating the cheap sandwich before heading back out into the big world. I met my boss on the way and he looked at me with his emotionless face and it sent chills down my neck, as always. When we walked out, it was getting windy and we decided to walk home.
We walked for about five minutes before we stumbled upon someone. “Ethan,” Tristan muttered. The tall, muscular man stopped in his tracks and responded back, “Hi, Tristan!” He turned around and had a content face, as if nothing had happened. “Hey, Ethan, did you hear? My brother got into an accident and got really hurt,” I said, my voice rising little by little from anger.
“Oh, hi! You’re Jenna, right? I’ve heard a lot of good things from Tristan about you. We haven’t seen each other in a while, Tristan,” Ethan said, which really ticked me off. He was trying to act as if we didn’t know what was happening.
“Are you sure about that, Ethan? I heard you met last month,” I said, trying to corner him more and more until he wouldn’t have any other excuses.
“Um, no I didn’t… What are you talking about?”
“I think we met on the 24th, Ethan,” Tristan said, catching my drift. We were in the middle of the sidewalk, so people started to complain. Ethan started to stumble backwards and we moved closer.
“Yeah, and I found him on the ground bleeding and broken in so many spots. HOW COULD YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO MY BROTHER?” I screamed at him. Everyone looked at us and I started to attack him. I punched him, scratched him, kicked him, everything I could manage to do. I kicked him in the groin and he recoiled. Something inside him clicked and he shoved me to the ground and kicked me in the back. Hard. I heard something crack and pain rushed through me. I screamed and Ethan ran for his life. People around us started panicking and calling 911. Tristan tried to chase him but he ended up falling on his chest, probably making his broken ribs feel even worse. I wasn’t able to describe the pain with anything except for one word. Agony. The pain eventually got to me and my world went black.