Turning the corner
Samantha McKenna
Turning the corner, she heard the quickening footsteps echo behind her. With a determined apprehension she accelerated her pace, deftly sidestepping diagonally to avoid the lurking darkness of the street outside Dr Quinn’s surgery – from where he had insisted the street lighting be removed.
He had successfully argued that he could not fulfil his duties of treating the sick and dying while suffering from sheer exhaustion brought on by a lack of sleep from the buzzing fluorescent light that flooded into his bedroom each night.
She had always carefully avoided the menacing shadow, but tonight, it was even more crucial to remain in the light. Her breath grew shallow as she scolded herself for declining Rick Moran’s offer to accompany her on the journey home. Despite his eagerness and the fact that he lived just a little further down the path, she had firmly placed him in the friend zone since their early school days. She insisted to herself that it was because he resembled her little brother, and the fact that he was named after Rick Astley, a shame nobody should have to bear.
Deep down, she knew the real reason for rejecting his clumsy advances was her inability to overlook the red-cheeked, freckled face beneath those thick black-rimmed glasses.
She hated that fickle aspect of her nature but consoled herself by attributing her desire for popularity to one of her strongest motivations in life – blaming it on the circumstances of being born with beauty. It was that justification that allowed her to sleep at night when she had repeatedly broken his heart. She believed she was simply out of his league, and instead, she considered herself gracious for allowing him to be a part of her company at all.
In this moment though, she felt only regret for her harsh opinion and she wished for Rick’s presence, a shield against the encroaching darkness behind her.
Panic set in as she turned onto Tara Lane, the final stretch before reaching her street. With mounting fear, she broke into a run. Despite the terror growing inside, she implored herself to keep running for her life; a few more steps, and she’d be home.
The initial blow hit her shoulder as she stumbled into an unyielding hedge. The second strike, sharp and precise, landed on her right temple, abruptly cutting short the scream she had hoped would summon help. Collapsing to the ground, she watched as the street lights above slowly faded away.
He stood frozen staring down at her, watching the blood pool around her golden hair and waiting for the light to leave her vivid blue eyes. Receding into the shadows, he patiently waited, ensuring no witnesses would emerge from the darkness. With deliberate steps, he made his way to the end of Tara Lane before breaking into a brisk sprint toward home.
Rick Moran stood before the mirror, grappling with a mix of fear and exhilaration that confused him. These emotions were unexpected; all he had wanted was an end to the pain and humiliation. He had loved her, given her everything, and dedicated himself to her, only to face rejection and humiliation.
While he could have accepted the rejection, the years of mockery and embarrassment became unbearable.
Now, all of that was behind him.
Tomorrow, he would awaken as a new man, liberated from years of torment. Finally, he could turn the corner and embark on a new life free of her.
Samantha McKenna is a member of Inklings Writing Group, whose meetings resume on Tuesday January 9 at 10.50am in the Annebrook House Hotel.