The Start of It All
I don't know how to do this. Writing, that is. My wife was good at it.
And now, she's no more...
This was her diary.
Kimberly's. My sweet Kim's.
She loved penning down her thoughts. She spoke to the diary and confided all kinds of things like it was her best friend. Now it's my turn. I want to spend my time doing what she loved.
This diary is the only thing of her's that I have that helps me get a glimpse inside her mind.
To peer inside the pages of her diary would be like getting to know her all over again, to read her thoughts, to experience warm memories, to feel the way she felt. It's like she never left.
Like she's still here. With me...
And, I'm writing because I need a way to pass the time. And also because part of me feels like there's a part of her in this diary. A part that is able to read what I write.
That there still is a kind of link between me and her. Some way I can communicate with her. I don't know. Here, I am. Pouring my heart out to a diary.
Yesterday was her funeral. I stayed by her side for the whole time. With a heavy heart, I looked at her one last time and bid farewell. Rest in peace, Kimberly.
It had been a week since Kim passed away.
I'm still physically and emotionally drained. I've played out the entire incident in my head a thousand times, wondering how things could've been different.
She would still be here, alive and by my side.
She was shot at the corner of Cherry Street and Colden Boulevard, on the way home from work.
That unfortunate day, she had called and let me know she was working a late shift at Mulberry Hill Hospital. So, I told her I'd pick her up at 9:00.
I came home shortly after 7:00 PM. Took some extra time grading the finals. I wanted to get rid of all the mundane work I had pending at the term end.
But hey all part of being a mathematics professor.
Once home, feeling weary, I decided that I'd take a nap. Some nap alright.
I dozed off for about two and a half hours. I jolted up and remembered that I had to pick Kim up. So I grabbed my keys and darted out the door.
I headed out onto Cherry Street and saw Kim standing with a frown on her face. She'd walked quite a bit. She looked at me disapprovingly. But she still managed to look so beautiful.
I apologized to her and told her dinner was on me. She then smiled her warm, beaming smile and got in the car.
Everything was perfect. I stopped for a while at the supermarket at Colden to grab a bottle of wine. A perfect way to end the day. I told Kim to wait in the car for a bit.
I'd be back in a minute I told her.
Those would be my last words to her.
'Babe, you want anything?'
'No, I just wanna go home.'
'Alright wait here for a minute. Lemme just grab a bottle real quick. Then, home sweet home.'
When I returned to our car, they had already showed up.
Two men were standing on opposite sides of the car. One was peering into the window and the other held a baseball bat pointed at Kim. Kim was inside; the doors were locked.
The guy on the left was sneering at her, while the one with the bat had a wide, stupid grin. He pointed the bat at the window and said, 'Come on out baby. I'm asking nicely.'
Those bastards. I had to do something, but I had nothing to defend myself with. I knew I didn't stand a chance against them but I had to protect Kimberly. She must've been so afraid.
It was then that I remembered the wine bottle. I took it out and smashed it, causing the wine to flow out and creating a puddle of red with shards of glass.
I held the remains of the bottle which now had jagged, sharp edges and rushed towards them.
Both men turned over at me and scowled. I glared back and told them to back up. I took slow steps forward towards the car. I could see Kim glancing back with wide eyes.
I wanted to reassure her somehow but I didn't know what to do.
'Damn, she fine. Fine as hell,' the one with the bat said to me. I told them to leave before I call the cops and both of them started laughing maniacally.
Then, suddenly the one with the bat charged towards me. Without thinking I lashed out at him with the bottle. I managed to scrape his face and bruise his right shoulder.
He shouted once and dropped his bat. He tried grabbing the broken bottle from my hand. I pinned him down to the ground and started punching his face but could only manage three blows.
I felt a gun pointed on the back of my head and knew that it was the other man. It didn't occur to me that he would have a weapon too.
He shouted, 'CUT THIS S*IT. GET DOWN.'
I did what he said and got down on the floor and faced him. He had the widest smile etched on his face. All his yellow teeth visible in whatever light there was in this street.
Then, I heard the car door opening. I could hear Kim stepping out and running towards him screaming. NO DON'T KILL HIM.
She pleaded to him and offered him money. Just when she was about to reach us, the man turned and pointed the gun at her. The other guy picked up his bat and tapped it menacingly on the floor.
He looked at me and whispered, 'You're dead'.
I negotiated, 'Leave us alone. You can take all our money. We won't tell the cops.' I proceeded to take my wallet out.
My wife stared wide-eyed at me, shaking, and handed over her cash to the man with the gun.
It happened in a flash. Not even a second after handing the money, she was shot.
'Please let us go...' she pleaded.
She fell on the sidewalk with a thud. I screamed her name. 'KIM. NO!'
Both the low life scum started snickering. 'What do we do about him?' asked the one with the bat. 'Shoot him too,' replied the other.
'First, lemme beat his a**' he said grinning while holding his bat. 'Imma enjoy this', he hooted before taking his first swing.
He hit the left side of my head. Hard. I almost passed out. My head was throbbing with pain. He continued with his blows, hitting me everywhere.
After a minute he stopped and dropped his bat. I heard sirens in the distance. 'Damn, it's the cops. Let's get outta here!' he said.
They grabbed the money, and ran.
All I could think now was of Kim. I had to get up and do something. I had to get her to the hospital.
But I couldn't. I passed out. When I woke up, I was on a white hospital bed, with bandages on my head. The room looked familiar.
Of course, it was where Kim worked: Mulberry Hill. A nurse walked in, with dried up tears on her cheeks.
'How are you feeling?' she asked. As she got closer to me, I recognized her. It was Julia, one of Kim's friends.
I asked how Kim was. If she's alright. If she made it.
Tears streamed down Julia's cheeks again. 'The gunshot wound was..It was...The damage was' she stammered. 'We couldn't save her' she said with her voice cracking and began sobbing.
It took me a moment to process as I stared at her in disbelief. Then the wave of grief swept over me. My precious Kimberly. They killed her.
A police officer stepped into the room and asked me if I was okay. He wanted to know more about the scene of the crime.
'I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Carson. I have a few questions to ask.' he said solemnly. 'I'm Lewis James. I handle homicides.'
Julia told me if I needed anything, just push this. She pointed to a button on the side of the bed. She wiped her tears and left the room, leaving me and the officer alone.
He recorded my statement on his pad. The usual deal. Writing the details of the crime. My head was still reeling. I didn't want to relive the incident, but I answered all I could.
I wanted him to catch those two scoundrels.
He told me that he'd keep in touch and inform me of any updates in the case.
He told me they recovered a few items from the crime scene, like our wallets, phones, and car and that it's in safe hands at the police station. Also, they took the bat in for investigating.
He left me his number and told me not to hesitate to call if I remembered anything.
Also, he told me to come down to the police station to collect my belongings, when I get discharged from this hospital.
Then, I was left alone.
For five days, pain coursed through every muscle of my body and my head throbbed in agony. But, it wasn't nearly as agonizing as the thought of Kim getting shot and dying in front me.
I finally got my discharge approval. Julia gave me a ride home and told me she would attend the funeral and stop by later this week, to see how I'm holding up or if I needed any help.
I thanked her and got in my flat.
I could only think of one thing. I wanted the lowlifes dead. I kept reassuring myself that the cops will bring her justice, that they'll bring them in.
I called Officer James on the number a couple of times the past week, but he told me no significant progress was made. He said he's looking into it, whatever that means.
I called him again today. He told me I could stop by the station tomorrow morning to complete some paperwork and collect my stuff.
Well, it's getting late now. Till the next time.
To be continued...