Balancing the scales

Chloe

A hot shower after a long day never felt so good as tonight. I always enjoyed the feeling that warm water brought as all the sweat, stress, and the previous day’s events were washed down the drain. It worked like magic on me; droplets relaxed my muscles, and steam relaxed my mind. But this time, I needed more. So, after I rinsed my hair and scrubbed my body, I put on my favorite floppy nightie and poured myself a glass of Chardonnay.

It was mid-July, nights were as warm as they could get, and I enjoyed them on my balcony.

Taking the wine with me, I stepped out onto the terrace. Looking up, my eyes met with the full moon. I smiled at it cheekily while sitting in the comfortable rocking chair. The city’s buzzing was muted; only the sound of moving cars down the avenue could be heard intermittently, a loud laugh or yell here and there. But soon, it all would be quiet, like someone turned off a switch.

Silvery moonlight bathed my balcony with the rest of the city, dispersing magical rays around me, and giving a special note to the night. “Cheers!” I saluted the moon before I took a sip. If anyone saw me, they would think I completely lost my marbles, but I enjoyed sitting here when the weather allowed it and spending time with my thoughts. Talking with the satellite was new for me, but who cared.

‘What a crazy day it was today,’ I sighed when the memories of what I did swirled in my mind. If it weren’t for Mrs. Scott’s visit earlier, I would’ve been sure I did the right thing, but my conscience was not calm. I helped a young woman be with the man she loved, but I also made a mother worried sick about her daughter.

I sipped on the wine as my tensed muscles relaxed under the alcohol that quickly mixed with the blood and surged through my veins, providing the divine relaxation I craved. Luckily, I didn’t have to get up early tomorrow. Called out by the fresh sheets and soft bed, I stood up and headed towards them, looking forward to the peace they offered.

But before I left my little haven on the balcony and got inside, a disturbing cacophony stopped me in my track. An angry male voice was yelling, and he sounded a bit dazed. I could also distinguish another voice, but they weren’t clear enough for me to understand what they were talking about.

Somebody’s probably drunk. Again.

This neighborhood was relatively calm, but something connected to the cheap bar a couple of blocks away would happen every now and then. Mugging, or a drunk and disorderly, once we even had a murder attempt. It was what made life interesting here. Note the sarcasm.

Deciding that it was none of my business, I headed inside. But noooo! Right then, a smashing sound followed by a thud echoed from the back alley, and the voices became louder. I could understand the words wallet and money.

So, it was a mugging. Oh, I hated thieves!

Would this damn night ever end?!

Encouraged by the wine, with some pent-up rage waking up in me, a guilty conscience that wanted to make things right so the scales would be in balance again, I stormed inside and grabbed the baseball bat I kept by the door. Next thing I knew - I was marching down the street barefoot, wearing only my nightie and swinging the bat in my hand. What a sight I must’ve been! But I didn’t care at all. All I could think about was… actually, I wasn’t thinking at all. At that moment, reason must have left me entirely.

Stepping closer to the scene, my eyes landed on two figures. Even if there weren’t for the street lamp that cast a yellowish halo on the sidewalk, I wouldn’t have had any problems distinguishing what was going on in front of me; the moon was at its peak, giving the night an illusion of being what it was not.

One of the two was wearing a hoody, holding a knife in hand, and the other was lying on the ground, half leaning on the parked car. As I suspected, the guy on the ground was as drunk as he could be; his clumsy and uncoordinated movements witnessed to it.

“Hey!” I shouted, and the hooded one’s head snapped in my direction. “I called the police!” I lied without blinking, never stopping my march towards the ‘party.’ Fueled up by the feelings I could not explain, I suddenly stopped when I realized who the assailant was.

“Frankie?” I muttered, taken aback when I recognized a teenager from the neighborhood. I knew him from the day he was in diapers; I knew his sister and his parents. I never expected to see him doing something like this, not in a million years. He was a good kid!

His name being called out startled the boy, and he froze where he stood. He could not move and react for a few seconds, shock clear on his face, and I used that chance to snatch the knife from his hand. I had no time to consider possible consequences; I gave myself no chance to consider what could happen if Frankie ‘decided’ to act differently. No, those things crossed my mind much later when it was all over.

Having the blade in my hands securely pointed downwards, I sighed in relief and looked at him. His face showed confusion more than anything else, and I hoped this was the first time he was doing something stupid. He didn’t even react when I grabbed the weapon.

“Go! Home! Now!” I yelled. “And I want to see you at 9 am tomorrow.” His eyes were blank like he didn’t understand what I was saying. “Go! And dare not come tomorrow!” I motioned with the bat towards the end of the street where I knew his home was, and that seemed to snap him out of the trance because he ran away from me like I was a demon from hell.

Looking down at the ground, I saw a guy in a tuxedo trying to roll onto his knees. The sight alone disturbed me on a whole new level, and I sighed before dropping the knife and the bat and going to help him get up.

As I got close to him, a strong smell of cheap alcohol overwhelmed my sense of smell, and I cringed as nausea built up in my stomach. Why did people drink more than they could take? Clenching my teeth tightly, I grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him up with all the strength I had in me. Somehow, he managed to stand on his wobbly feet and not fall.

Leaning his back on the car conveniently parked next to him, the guy straightened up, and I saw his face clearly. I needed more than a few moments to remember where I’d seen him before and why those grey eyes seemed familiar, but then it clicked in my mind, and despite the warm night, I was suddenly freezing in angst.

It was the same guy whose face was on all the magazines lately. Gabriel Miller. A cold fist clenched around my heart, predicting this night wouldn’t end well.

“Can I get you a taxi?” I asked, and he was quiet for so long that I thought he wouldn’t answer.

“My… car is here… somewhere…” he stuttered while tapping his pockets, presumably looking for his keys. “But I don’t want to go home…” it came out of his mouth, and at first, I wasn’t sure if I heard it right, but then he repeated. “I don’t want to go home, and I don’t want tomorrow to come… how will I face everyone?” his facial features distorted, and he seemed like he could start crying at any second, but that didn’t happen. And I? I couldn’t hear my own thoughts from the rush of blood to my brain. There was no more doubt about who he was. He didn’t need to say it out loud.

“I was left… at the altar today.” His chuckle was as dark as the pit that swallowed my soul.

How was this possible? What were the chances? One in a million?

Barely a few hours after I had helped his bride escape their wedding, I stumbled upon the intoxicated groom? Was I this damned?

Destiny had fucked up sense of humor if she thought this was the right way to get back at me for what I did! Message received!

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to calm the wild whirlwind of my thoughts and emotions.

I did this to him. I pushed him into a state he was in.

A loud thud alarmed me before I saw him on the pavement again.

“Are you my angel?” The tone of his voice turned my blood to ice. He sounded lost and desperate, and the look in his eyes? He looked at me like I was his savior, and I wanted nothing more than to cry at that moment.

This was my fault. This man sitting drunk on the pavement was my fault. If only I didn’t interfere today. If only I had just walked away like I was supposed to. If only I didn’t feel sorry for the girl I knew nothing about. A mother’s heart wouldn’t be bleeding, and this man wouldn’t be lost.

I wasn’t his angel. I was his demon. His curse.

The light flickered and snapped me out of my thoughts, reminding me of where I was and what I was doing here.

What now? What should I do now? How could I fix this?

Without a second thought, I helped him get up again. It was harder than the first time around; he was limp, and he wasn’t trying to stand on his own. He surrendered. He gave up on fighting. I got him up and leaned him onto the same car that supported him earlier long enough for me to drop his arm around my shoulders and master the courage, will, and strength to do what I intended. Although I wasn’t short, more of an average height, I fitted perfectly under his arm. His body heat made me realize I was shivering all along.

He was heavy as he was leaning onto me with most of his weight, and I had trouble standing still since I wasn’t the most sober person in the world at the moment, but I hoped I could hold us both.

Where was I taking him? To my home, of course.

I didn’t know where he lived or who to call to come and get him, and I definitely couldn’t just leave him in the street. No, not after realizing I was to blame for his condition tonight.

With a lot of trouble and tripping, I navigated him up the stairs and to my bed. Where else?

As soon as his head touched the pillow, he was out like a light.

I stood beside the bed and watched him for a minute to make sure he was all right before I took a light comforter and headed to the living room to spend the night on the couch.