The Biggest Heartache in Town

By Meloira

Amanda speaks . . . .

Damn Victoria Hudson McKinnon and her mouth!

If it weren’t for the little twit’s stupid mistake, I wouldn’t be in this horrible mess, hurting the ones I love most. But no, Vicky just had to go and ruin my life yet again.

Believe it or not, it all started on Valentine’s day. How appropriate. Once again I was alone—-no big surprise, I know. The day of love has never been my favorite day of the year, not by a long shot; but then again I was Mrs. Grant Harrison at one point in my pathetic life. Besides, V-day is nothing but a trumped-up holiday created by the chocolate and greeting card syndicates of the world. It’s all a scam.

But I digress.

It all began when I stopped by Carlino’s near closing time. Of course, who should come waltzing in but Saint Victoria, Queen of All She Surveys. Blech. Seems she was stopping by for a little late night snack. I bet it's been years since she saw the working end of a kitchen.

Anyway, she and Paulina and I spent a few moments in blindingly trivial small talk. Just as Paulina left to place the money in the office safe, in comes this guy. He was just some plain, ordinary loser. Harmless. Normal. I told him the place was closed and turned away, expecting him to leave. We should’ve been so lucky. Instead of scooting back out into the night, I heard him say something about a holdup and a gun. I was in the middle of asking myself if things could get any worse when I saw the gun, an honest to God real gun.

Great.

Me, being the life-loving woman that I am, instantly threw my hands up in surrender. But not Vicky. Lord no, never Vicky. In all her tough chick from Lassiter wisdom, Vicky tried to reason with the nut. However, her splendid spur of the moment plan did not work. That’s when all hell broke loose.

Most of what happened next remains a blur. I can recall images of a man’s livid face and the look in Vicky’s eyes after she realized the bullets had hit her. I can remember vaguely the wail of sirens outside and of voices filtered through bullhorns and how thankful I was that Paulina had escaped. However, I don’t remember just how long we were held hostage or how we were finally rescued.

But the one thing I will never forget is holding on to Vicky as I watched her life slowly flow from her body. We may have been there for hours on end for all I know, but it was almost too long. I’d never been so scared in all my life. And yes, I know poor Vicky was wounded and possibly dying, but the woman should have never opened her mouth. Just one little word, one little name changed everything.

I’ve been living the nightmare ever since.

Thanks for nothing Vicky.