I can't sleep..I can't speak

Charlotte was in her own little war with herself, lately.

It didn't help that Rosco thought it would be a neat idea if they had their own apartment. And now they were paying for it.

It was no more than a motel room. A tight space. No room for a dining area, just a breakfast bar, which they didn't  have chairs for. And after his computer and her computer took up one full space in the livingroom and a wall of books, well..there was no space for a couch. They couldn't invite anyone over. Not that Charlotte minded, but she felt she was confined to a closet and after the incident at the library, well, she could hardly breathe. Perhaps, it was the panic attacks.

She could see it play over and over in her head. If Parker hadn't sent her to the back..she knew those two bullets were meant for her..not him. It swallowed her up in emotion, still.  Everytime she thought about it, it as if everything felt not quite real. It was all her fault. It was true. All her fault.

That guy had it in for her because she wouldn't go out with him. She wouldn't talk to him. She avoided him like a sad illness after he'd cornered, not once but a couple of times, wanting her to be with him. It was so annoying. He was an old man. He'd be so nice, then he turned ugly when she didn't like the movies he wanted her to watch. Didn't see politics like she did. He was troubled. She'd tried to tell co-workers what she up against. And now it had gone crazy. Completely crazy.

She jerked herself up from her pillow, and shook the thought of what she remembered. There were thoughts running through her head, that the shooter had missed and she didn't find Parker in a pool of his own blood.

She wanted him to say some last words to her. Did he? Could she not figure it out?

Her chest tightened, thinking how awful it was. The library stayed closed for three days. It had never done that. Nothing like that had ever happened.

But the carpet was clean now. You'd never know anything bad had ever happened. The last moments of someone's life had been spilled on that carpet, and they couldn't even make a shrine of it. Charlotte felt the tears melt down her face.

Yes, she'd called 911 just like he said. She did what she was told. Her eyes burned now, knowing that wasn't enough. It wasn't enough for Parker.