“I’m gonna go now!” I shout over the loud, pounding music.
Chelsea stops dancing, grabs me by the hand and leads me to a quiet place in the bar. “Can you stay just a few more minutes, Nick? The night is just getting started! Plus no one here is going to make you drink, this is the first time you come to a bar since you quit drinking and you won’t go back to it, I promise” she insists.
“I can’t, Chels. It’s my daughter’s birthday tomorrow and I promised her I would spend the whole day with her. I have to leave early in the morning, so I’m calling it a night.”
“Yeah okay, I’ll see you when you get back then. Say hi to Diana for me.” She leans over for a quick kiss and reminds me to let her know when I get home.
After three years of dating, she still worries about me when I travel anywhere. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve this woman. I assure her that I will and leave before she can convince me to stay.
I pull my coat tight around me as I come out of the bar, glad that I don’t have to walk much to get to my car. I’m a few feet away from the bar now and I’m surprised by how loud the music is from here. I can barely hear myself think. I’m halfway to my car when someone bumps into me.
“Excuse me,” I say. There’s no response so I look up and stare at the man. His eyes are bloodshot and there is foam coming out of the corners of his mouth. He is twitching all over and looks as if he can’t hold himself up.
“Are you okay?” I ask. I reach my hand out to steady him because he’s stumbling all over and when I do he completely loses it.
“Get off me!” he yells. He pushes me away roughly enough to knock me to the ground.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask, looking up at him.
He’s so fucked up he probably thought I was going to attack him. I should just call an ambulance and have them deal with him. I barely reach into my pocket when the man runs at me, and before I know it he’s on top of me, punching me over and over. His heavy hand plunges into me and it knocks the wind out of me. I try to call for help but now he has his hands wrapped tightly around my throat. I try to get him off me, to fight back in any way that I can. There’s no use, he’s way bigger than me.
“This is payback you son of a bitch! You killed her! She’s dead and it’s all your fault!” He continues yelling things at me until he becomes incoherent.
“What are you talking about?” I say, but it barely comes out as a whisper.
I look into his hollow, empty eyes. I could see, and even feel, the cold dark night in his enormous pupils. It is at this moment, looking into the abyss of his eyes, that I start praying. I pray harder than I ever have before. I pray that this will end soon. That, yes, I will be left with pain, but at least I will live. I pray that no one ever sees me like this, not Chelsea, and definitely not Diana. More than anything, I pray that I’ll be able to make it to my daughter’s birthday, and see the look on her face when she opens her present. I promised her. I can’t break that promise, not on her birthday.
I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline of being close to death, or the fact that I have to get to my daughter in the morning, but I push the man off me. He lands with a loud thud next to me and I thank God that he looks like he’s about to pass out. It’s hard getting up, everything hurts, but my car is only a few feet away. If I can just make it inside and lock my doors, I will be safe. This will all be a story I tell someday. I close my fingers around the handle and I’m about to open the door when I feel his hands turn me around roughly.
“You think you’re going to get away that easily? After what you did, you think I’m going to let you go?” He shouts again.
I feel a cold metallic object plunge into my back and I realize with horror that this time he has a knife. I try to yell for help, but my throat hurts too much from his hands around it before. All that comes out is a whisper, and I cry because no one is around and I doubt anyone will come around to save me. He plunges the knife into my back and twists. The pain is too much; I can barely breathe. My vision starts getting blurry and I wonder why I’m not dead yet. Then he takes it out and does it again and again. At some point, I fall to the ground, and I only realize it because I feel the fresh stab wounds press into the rough asphalt. It doesn’t stop him though, I feel him punching me in the back with the knife. I don’t know how many it takes for me to lose consciousness, and it hits me that I’m going to die, I’m not just fainting from the pain.
I’m sorry, Diana, I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to spend the day with you tomorrow. I promised.
The next time I open my eyes he is carrying me towards a river. He’s going to drown me, no one will ever find me. At least then no one will have to see me like this. If I close my eyes I know this time it will be for good. I focus on the pain I’m feeling and his rough hands holding me. It starts to snow just then and even though I am hurt all over and shivering, I relish the feeling of the cool frozen mists of snowflakes melting on my bruised and broken body. I am trying so desperately to hold onto this feeling because it means that I am still alive.
I begin to see images, some too fast for me to understand and some clear as day. I’m at a dance club, the one I met Alison in. We glance at each other a few times before I finally have the nerve to ask her to dance. Next, I’m rushing to get the baby bag and Alison out the door. I realize I’m going to be a father and I try everything in my power not to freak out. Then I’m sitting in a windowsill with Diana. It’s snowing outside and I’ve made us hot chocolate to keep warm. I ask her, “How much do you love me?” She responds with, “I love you from here to the sky.” I reply, “Really, that little? Because I love you from here to the sky a million times.” She looks at me with so much love and admiration that it makes me cry a little. After that, I see everything that led up to the divorce. Night after night, there is a glass of whiskey on the coffee table. When I lift the glass there’s a fresh-water ring on top of older ones. We’re fighting and Diana is crying because this is how she goes to sleep, with the sound of our yells. I’m packing my things and leaving, and I know Diana isn’t there because she hates goodbyes. Then I see Chelsea, so gentle and pure, and always smiling. She fixed all the pieces of me that were broken, and because of her, I have a good relationship with Diana. Because of her, I got a second chance to do everything right.
Just then, I realize I am not afraid of dying. I lived a good life in my 42 years and the only reason I don’t want to die is because Diana is still so young. I think what I’m most afraid of is that she’ll never recover from this. I just want to make sure they know I love life, but I love her more. Maybe I’ll be able to be there for them even after I’m gone. Maybe I’ll be able to explain to Julie that sometimes promises are broken, and that’s okay. Just then, my eyes become too heavy for me to lift and I let them close.
Jen's Journal 
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