Oblivious To The World

• Caity Saunders, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2020

I walked up the stairs to Misty’s apartment, with lunch for the two of us in hand. As I walked onto the roof where Misty sat. We looked out onto the highrises, where the city elite lived their lives. “One day,” she said, “that’ll be us, James”. The two of us had once lived in the highrise apartments, with the rich elite. That was once us, and I miss it every day.
Misty and I had been friends for a long time, through our parents. Both mine and her parents were the royalty of all the crooks in town. But I didn’t know how the world worked. Law enforcement caught on, and they had to end their partnership. My parents fled to the Caribbean, or so I heard, while Misty’s parents took the route of no return. Both deserted from our families, Misty and I took solace in the fact that no matter what, we could live our lives knowing that someone in the world was feeling what we were feeling. Today was my 18th birthday, and despite all that had happened in the past few years, I desperately wanted Misty to stay her optimistic, childlike self. I would give anything in the world for her to stay happy.
As we ate our lunch in silence, I noticed a black SUV drive down the street. Two men got out of the car, one large and short, the other bulky and tall, both wearing suits. They looked familiar, but I couldn’t place my finger on it. I climbed down the fire escape, and Misty followed suit. As we edged closer and closer to the alleyway where the two men went off to, we tried to peer around the corner of the brick building. Suddenly, two deafening shots went off and the sidewalk was covered in red.
Misty bolted down the alleyway, and I tried to hold her back, my hand grasping the air where the collar of her shirt once was. I stumbled around the wall to get her back, but it was too late. Another shot was fired. I witnessed my friend bring her bloody hands to her face and drop a revolver in front of her. Thank god she was alive. Two men lay dead in front of us. I wanted to keep the childlike persona of Misty alive, but this was too much, even for me.
I tried to get Misty to stand up and leave the crime scene now but she was paralysed. I heard police sirens crescendo. A bodega owner from across the street came over to see what had happened, and civilians followed him. When they looked upon us, I tried to run, but couldn’t.
Instead I was encased by hugs and cheers. Misty came out of her trance, and the shop owner pinched her cheeks and hugged her. For hours we stayed there while the community partied and thanked us. But when it was over, the two of us were left dazed and confused.