Misfortune

Gabrielle Veilleux checked in to Building Society Bank.

He smiled at himself momentarily, staring at the text message as the television glared unnoticed. This was the third time Gabrielle checked into the bank. Ever since she started using Foursquare, she was determined to become a mayor of something, of anything. So, every day before work, during lunch and after work, she’d visit the bank to make a deposit, withdraw some money or just check her account balance.

Her third check in meant she was on her way home. Finally, he thought, my Gabrielle is coming home. He closed the phone and almost got up to check online just how close she was to becoming the mayor of that bank, but his thoughts were interrupted - BREAKING NEWS in big red letters had caught his attention.

A woman began to speak frantically but clearly: There is an armed man in the Building Society Bank. Police have now vacated nearby buildings and have surrounded the bank. A gunshot has been heard from inside. Police fear the worst.

Gabrielle, he thought, oh no, Gabrielle. He quickly stood up and ran around the house looking for a pair of jeans and his car keys. After moments of searching, he opted on running out as is: shorts, a stained t-shirt, socks and his cell on his hand. He ran. The woman’s voiced played in his head. A gunshot has been heard from inside. Did he shoot Gabrielle? Is she dead? No, he thought, I mustn’t think this. But his thoughts couldn’t diverge from the worst. He thought of her jumping in to save someone from a bullet and lying there, dead, a tragic hero.

But she must be alive, he assured himself as he turned the corner. Just two blocks, he whispered more to himself than the man he just passed by. He wondered if each passing second was her last. Or if any of it mattered. Had her time ended before his run started? He could hear the siren and see the crowd surrounding the scene, eagerly waiting for something to happen.

He felt his pocket vibrate but he urged on. He pushed men, women and children away; nobody was going to stop him. He got passed one cop, but reinforcements kept him at bay. “I must go in and see her,” he pleaded. “My wife, my wife is in there. Please, please let me through. Oh god, let me through…I need to see her.”

The police men ignored his cries but his wish came true. The man came out with Gabrielle in his arms, a gun to her face. “I will kill her if you do not allow me to pass.” The crowd sighed and his world collapsed. Why did it have to be Gabrielle? Gabrielle was crying and her nose was dripping blood. The policemen turned to face the man and he broke free. He ran towards her without thought. He needed her to be safe.

The man shot her in the head. He saw the last of her life in her face, until she fell to the ground, lifeless. He heard other shots and saw the man fall too. He reached down to her and put her head upon his chest. S’il vous plaît Gabrielle, s’il vous plaît ne pas être mort. Gabrielle, Je t’aime. S’il vous plaît dire quelque chose, s’il vous plaît. The blood began to seep into his shirt and he felt warmth. He felt her warmth. He rocked back and forth pleading with her body to make a movement. He felt something vibrate on her jacket and remembered his phone vibrating earlier.

He opened his phone and read: Si je ne m’en sortirais pas vivant, au revoir. Aujourd’hui, j’ai découvert que je suis enceinte. Je veux un garçon. Nous vous aimons Phillip.

Hot tears slid down his face unto the screen of his phone. He had lost two loved ones today. His phone vibrated once more; he subconsciously opened the text and began reading: Gabrielle Veilleux is now Mayor of Building Society Bank. (via)