Work Text:
It was an extremely long day at work. I had had two back to back five hour surgeries and three emergency valve replacements. I was completely ready to just lay down and rest, but I had promised myself that I would go visit Mo for a few hours before I headed home. Yes, Mobo and I were casually dating, though I was convinced that he was starting to think we were more than that. This particular week Mo had kept calling and texting me quite frequently- to the point where I had to neglect him for a good six days because I didn’t want him to become too attached to me. So one visit this week should be enough for the both of us.
As I went to unlock the door I heard some odd, yet familiar noises coming from within Mo’s old apartment, I even started to get goosebumps from the familiarity. I brushed off the feeling, opened the door slowly, and then noticed that AJ and Mo were sitting on the beige sofa, their complete focus being on the TV screen.
Just as I closed the door I heard gunshots, lots of them, the intense cracking sounds started to echo throughout the whole living room, people were screaming, while others were talking, some cried out in pain, and then came more gunfire.
And so I froze.
“Jasi, Jasi,” I believe I heard, “AJ, find the remote. Hurry, we need to find it. Turn it off... Disconnect it.”
And then I heard a loud “pop” in the midst of all the chaos and then the shooting stopped. But it was already too late, I had already heard, and my mind had been transported to that place in my subconscious that was filled with reminders of utter despair, agony, hate, and fear.
And then the room went absolutely silent.
I do remember that my fists were clenched tightly, my purse was no longer within my grasp, and that my breathing was extremely heavy. I also recollect that all I wanted to do was to run into an empty, dark room, lock the door, and hide in a corner with my hands desperately pushing against my ears so that no sound can reach my inner being.
But Mo didn't let me.
“Jasi, Jasi, it’s over now. We turned it off,” he said as he hugged me close, “It’s over, Jas... It’s over.”
I don’t really remember much of what had happened in those moments, and I definitely don’t recall what AJ was doing in the midst of any of it either. I honestly never wanted him to experience my loss of control, and never intended for him to catch yet another glimpse of what a piece of my broken heart ultimately looked like, but he did.
I was petrified, as I had been so many years before... when the war hit. We would have to hide in closets, or small sheds. Baba had even made us a concrete-block ‘safe house’ so that we’d go and hide there during enemy fire, as he went out and helped the rest of the community get to safety at that time. But I never listened, I would go out and get children to go in that safe house instead, I saved some Mothers and Fathers. I remember being absolutely fearless-to such an extent that only the people around me mattered to me. But even those that have no fear will eventually have that one occurrence that makes them lose some hope and gain distress and discomfort.
I remember that one specific day, where I went to go save my friend’s grandmother. She was walking so slowly across her yard and couldn’t get to a safe place quickly, so I jumped out of Baba’s safe house and went to her aid. Mobo had cried out my name so many times, but I didn’t listen. I reached Grandma and started walking with her to safety, but right when I thought we had made some progression, the bullets started coming directly at us, and one went right through her skull (or so I later realized), as another grazed the left side of my hip. I fell in pain. Once my body absorbed the pestering and deep ache, I went to go help Grandma, but she was long gone by then. I had not been successful, I could’ve been quicker, and yet I had lost one more person that was important to my community and family. So as I laid there, on the grass, face up, petrified, while staring at the grayish-blue sky… the grey and cold bullets quickly flew over my tense body, through the homes of those I loved, and into the buildings where so many worked in order to keep their families afloat. That was, until Baba came to my rescue and he dragged me across the yard and into the safe house.
I haven’t been able to hear gun shots the same way again, even when a war movie comes on, or any type of shooting really. I’m fearless for many things, yes, but even the sounds of those guns make me cringe a bit more each day, especially when I have lost so many of my friends, family, and neighbors to them. I know how to use a gun, and I have excellent aim, but I will always prefer my fists in any battle.
And Mobo knew-he knew how to take me out of the trans. Holding me tight was the best way to go.
After a few minutes, Mo let go of my person, and then disappeared into the kitchen to do who knows what. But then I remember stronger, and yet more tender, arms pulling me closer, and I noticed a more familiar smell, AJ’s scent, one that I got acquainted with the day I cried in the OR. And so I leaned in and rested my head on his neck, wrapped my arms around his warm and inviting body, clung on tightly to his shirt, let out a deep sigh, and sobbed.