All of a sudden, Robert snapped back to reality, as if the world didn't exist before and it all just happened again in the course of a second. He picked his head up, looked around and headed up the stairs to his apartment. He stopped outside his door and realized he didn't have his keys. Since he drove home, he must have dropped them in the lobby. So he headed back down to the lobby to look for them. That's when he noticed the ambulance and the paramedics rushing Sile out of the building. She was under a white cloth, well, white and red, but he understood she was dead. Then he heard the door to the stairs close. He followed it, purely out of interest. He didn't know anyone else who used the stairs and he certainly didn't know who it could have been aside from a man; which really didn't narrow it down.

Robert climbed the stairs only ever seeing the shadow of the man he had noticed earlier. The man finally reached the floor on which Robert assumed he lived and saw him through the crack of the closing door. It was Cleake, he only knew his name from a handful of awkward moments in the elevator in which Cleake always introduced himself, despite Robert already knowing him. So Cleake must not have remembered him. The only thing was that Cleake seemed to have a big grin on his face as he unlocked and entered his apartment.

Robert had his hunches, but he decided he wouldn't worry about it now, he had other, more pleasant things to think about. Namely: Mary. He had decided she was the one. He had actually decided that the first time he had seen her, but now he was comfortable admitting it to himself. He headed over to her apartment in hopes of catching her before she left for her late shift. Robert knocked on her door and waited, but it appeared she wasn't home. He left and headed over to the place she worked, a small, 24/7 restaurant. He got there, a short 10 minute walk, and saw her inside. He stood there dumbstruck for a second, still thoroughly infatuated with her. He watched as she took the man's bill and entered it into the cash register. But then he noticed something wrong. He saw her expression go from cheerful to dread. He immediately understood what was taking place and sprinted for the door. The door flew open and Robert heard the man tell Mary not to be a hero. Then he saw a flash out come from the man's hand and he watched in horror as Mary fell to the ground. Robert stumbled backwards, visibly shocked and then somehow managed to collect himself and charge the man who had shot the woman he was in love with.

Each step seemed like a mile and each second felt like an hour as Robert ran, in full stride, at the assailant. Then, all of a sudden, Robert lost his footing and fell. He fell like a rock, hardly bracing his fall at all. There was warmth on his stomach, and a little bit of warmth in the back of his throat. He looked under the counter of the restaurant and saw Mary, somehow smiling. She mouthed something to him. He tried to stand back up, slowly, and fell back down, feeling even more of warmth on his back. The best he could do at this point was crawl towards Mary, slowly; and when he managed to close the distance enough, he wrapped his fingers around hers. He tried to speak but was unable to, instead coughing up warmth on the ground. He simply mouthed, slowly, and quite deliberately: "I love you."

Robert woke up still groggy from his vacation. Nothing went as planned and in his opinion it was a wreck. But that was behind him. He got up and went to make his eggs. He opened the foam container that held the fragile eggs but instead of the 12 that were supposed to be neatly arranged in the packaging, there  were eleven. He cracked two eggs in the pan with one hand (a trick he had picked up a couple of months back) and prepared his morning coffee. He ate quickly and got dressed and was out the door eleven minutes before he had to leave.

Later that day he went to grab lunch with a few coworkers he had befriended in the past couple of weeks. He had a roast-beef sandwich, which he thoroughly enjoyed, and opened up the wallet to pull out the last eleven dollars to pay for his meal. Back at work he handed his boss his eleven page TPS-report, including the newest, updated cover-page, and headed home early to hopefully meet Mary for a quick bite to eat and maybe a movie. He counted their dates as he walked to the car. Tonight would be the eleventh of what he considered date and he was excited. By this time, he was in the car, turning the key in the ignition. He lifted his foot off the brake and made his way out of the parking lot to 11th Street.

Robert's hands were tingling and he felt like he was on top of the world as Mary got in the car. She seemed to enjoy dinner as well as the movie. She buckled her seat-belt, leaned back into her seat, and let out a sigh. The two of them made small talk for the short drive to the apartment building in which the both lived. It seemed like an eternity to Robert as he was beginning to feel butterflies in his stomach as he pulled into the parking lot, and it only got worse as the got out of the car, and it was nearly unbearable as walked through the door.

They said their usual musings about enjoying the evening, and Mary turned to get in the elevator. Robert lightly touched her arm before she walked away, something between them clicked and she turned around with a innocent, beautiful look on her face. He took a step forward to close the gap between them and moved his head closer to hers. To Robert this felt like the longest few seconds of his life. His lips met hers and the world around them exploded, it seemed to them like nothing mattered aside from what was between them at that very moment. They pulled away from each other as though they both knew exactly what the other felt. Robert's eyes were closed and he just listened to Mary's breathing, now heavier than before. And he just listened as her breathing faded, as his arms brushed against his pants at his side, as the elevator doors closed, and he kept listening with his eyes closed as the elevator rose. And he sat there, for hours, just listening with his eyes closed.

Robert arrived at work early and made his way to his desk. He waved hello and greeted everyone he saw. He was in a very chipper mood this morning and as soon as he sat down, he got right back up. He realized he hasn't used his vacation days thus far this year. He rushed back out of the office just in time to barely catch the bus back to his apartment. He packed his bag and by the time he had he was starving. So he headed down to Casa de Waffle for a small meal. He sat down at the booth behind a girl he recognized from his apartment building. He couldn't recall her name but he overheard her talking about a vacation as well. He decided not to continue listening in and went about planning his own vacation. He decided it would be something small, like maybe camping. He loved camping when he was a kid. Being able to step  out of tent and looking up at the stars; they were so beautiful out in the mountains. There were so many and they all seemed to shine so brightly. In fact, that was Robert's least favorite thing about the city, the lack of stars in the sky at night. He thought he might ask Mary if she'd like to go along. He pictured the two of them sitting around a campfire. Not a care in the world. Robert had been learning the guitar for no other reason than he had tried in the past and failed and was now feeling confident in himself. He didn't know much, only about three chords (so he could play most pop songs). But he figured it could get him through a weekend away.

At this point, Robert had finished his meal and wanted nothing more than to head off to the mountains with Mary for a few days. He wanted to share his experience with her and make her happy. He thought about everything they could do, a hike, a picnic, anything really; and sooner than he realized, he was walking in the door of his apartment building. He waited around in the lobby for hours waiting for Mary. He saw all sorts of people he never knew existed, let along lived in his building. And finally, after 5 hours, Mary arrived at the building, clearly exhausted from a day at work.

"Mary!" Robert said excitedly, "How was your day?"

"Oh, hello Robert," she replied, "it was fine I suppose."

"Well I was wondering something... I've got a few vacation days I need to use up and I was thinking of going somewhere, and I was wondering if maybe you'd like to join me."

"Uh, I don't know Robert, what did you have in mind exactly?"

"Well I was thinking about spending a few nights up in the mountains, it's really beautiful this time of year."

"Well I suppose I've got nothing better to do. Let me call my boss and let him know I won't be in the next few days and I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Okay, well then I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow then."

"Okay, I'm gonna go get some sleep, long day." And Mary took the elevator up to her apartment.

Robert just stared on at the closed elevator doors and whispered to himself: "I love you."

The night was cold, particularly when the drafty apartment blew against the sweat that had broken out on Robert's back. It was cold enough to prohibit him from sleeping that night. So cold that he decided to just forget about sleeping; it was a Saturday and he didn't need to worry about going to work the following morning. Robert sat up, peeled the damp shirt from his back and threw it in the corner with his other dirty clothes, and got up to make himself some coffee. Robert Whittlesey was growing fonder of coffee; in fact, most of his previous habits had changed. His eating habits changed; he began working out again, which he hadn't done since college; he stopped seeing his mother's face as much. That last one was what had bothered him the most in his past. He had been seeing his mothers face for the last 15 years. It wasn't always blatant. It wasn't always subtle. His mother showed up in shadows, in the fog of the mornings, in the smog of the afternoons. Robert knew it was his mother's ghost. She wasn't haunting him, more like just checking in. Making sure her only son was alive and well.

Robert let out a big sigh as he eased into the wooden chair in the kitchen. He brought the cup of coffee to his lips and took a sip. It was strong and bitter: exactly how he liked it. He leaned back in his chair and stared out of the window. He simply sat there for a while, taking intermittent sips from his coffee all night. The night also seemed much shorter than most; and before Robert knew, it was time to get up and go to work.

Robert got up out of his chair and set about getting ready for work. He changed his clothes, made breakfast, and put his work related belongings in his suit case, and glanced at his watch to check the time before stepping out the door... not quite so deliberately.

Robert slammed the door behind himself attempting to keep everything bad in the world out. He went and laid down on his bed, still shaken up about the mugging he witnessed just minutes before. He didn't understand why he was so disturbed by what he saw. He just laid there in his bed waiting to fall asleep, hoping to fall asleep; and eventually, he did.

Robert woke up almost three hours later in a cold sweat and his heart pounding. He sat up and put his head in his hands. He dreamed about his mother, about her death. He remembered every gruesome detail, from the blood pooling around his feet and how he could barely recognize. He couldn't do anything but think about that night:

The night was shockingly still; it was summer and Robert didn't have school. The air was cool and not humid though Robert had started to shiver from the cool air on the sweat that now covered nearly his entire body. His mother kept yelling at him to either run or hide, often switching between the two words. When they ran, they ran fast, and when they hid, they were behind anything they could find that would cover their entire beings as the red pick-up truck would drive by, searching for them. It would stop everyone once in a while and the driver would get out and call out for them in a slurred, mocking tone. But always to no avail and would climb back in the car and drive away to come back by them minutes later. They were almost to the police station which is where Robert's mother was taking them. "We've got to get there," she kept saying, "I've got to make sure you're safe." They kept running for an hour but to 6 year-old Robert, it seemed like it lasted all night. Then finally, he saw it. The station was in sight and they picked up their pace, him running just as fast as his short legs could take him with his mother hobbling on just behind him. Then Robert noticed the shadow in front of him. The long shadow from the headlights not far behind him. He watched his mother's face  turn from hope to hopelessness in a matter of seconds. He stopped in his place as his mother continued to limp over to him.

"Run," she said, "Get to the police station, stay safe!"

"Janet!" said the driver of the car in a slurred, obviously drunken rage, "Where ya' goin' Janet?"

"We're getting away from you Rob."

"You're not going anywhere!" He shouted, outraged by the words his wife said to him. Rob stabbed her in the stomach with the bowie knife he kept under the seat of his truck. "You're not going anywhere but straight to hell, ya stupid bitch." And he turned toward's Robert, closing the gap between him and his namesake.

"Robert! Run! Go get help!" His mother shouted. "Run!"

But Robert couldn't move.

"It wasn't my fault Robert" his father said as he placed a kiss on his forehead. Then he got back in the truck and drove off, and Robert never heard from him again.

Robert ran over to his dying mother and stood above her. She reached her hand up to his and they held each others hands until she let go. Not because she wanted to, but because she didn't have the strength to hold her hand up any longer. "I love you Robert, and you're nothing like you're father; you're not Rob."

Robert woke up quite slowly, even for Robert. His head pounded, not like a normal headache but rather like he was physically pounding on his own skull. He managed to get to his feet but didn't trust his legs and instead chose to lean against the tree he had woken up under. He didn't know exactly how he got there, he remembered taking his pain meds before he left work and then nothing. He looked around observing his environment; the asphalt, lines, and hoops allowed him to quickly decipher he was at the basketball court. Not far from his house, he decided he would try and walk, one foot forward, then the other; try not to trip, try to stay strong and not collapse. That's where he wasn't so good. He collapsed and realized moving was an exercise in futility and stuffed his hand in his pocket for his phone. After fishing around for a minute, checking all his pockets, he came up empty handed. He picked himself up and scooted over to the tree.

He couldn't believe what was happening, he couldn't go anywhere, couldn't call for help, and no one was in sight to help out. Just then, a figure appeared, walking on the sidewalk across the court, then another. They were getting closer and Robert knew in the bottom of his stomach that something wasn't right. He called out to the figure walking ahead of the other but nothing came out of his mouth. He tried again but nothing. He could feel the dry air rolling over his vocal chords but they refused to move. He watched in helpless horror as the second figure grabbed the bag of the first. He could only watch as a weapon was pulled; the first figure put their hands in the air, forgetting about the bag. And the second figure ran.

All of a sudden, Robert's ears started ringing. He could hear the birds chirping and the wind blowing across the grass in the field behind the tree on which he leaned. It hadn;t even crossed his mind that he couldn't hear. Nevertheless, he stood up without realizing and bolted. He didn't want to be anywhere near the victim across the blacktop. It made him sick to his stomach seeing another person stripped of their outer walls of protection, becoming naught but a hollow shell of a human being. Vulnerability: the one thing Robert couldn't stand to see in anyone, particularly himself.

The end of Robert's day was as slow as any part of any day. However; the end of this particular day was unusually slow. He planned to walk down to Casa de Waffle and have his usual meal, then perhaps "walk" around the block and a half that he referred to as his home town. And he did just that. He ate his waffle, drank his coffee, paid, and left the restaurant to walk the streets for a short while before he turned in for the night.

The streets by the Castle Apartments are usually calm and typically undisturbed aside from the occasional noise from an animal and the low drone of a car a few blocks away. There are also the few homeless scattered around and while they are normally found in one area they do sometimes move for greener, or rather less filthy, pastures. Tonight was one of those nights. There was nothing going on, no sounds to heard save for the one bark of a not to distant dog. Robert was saddened by this as he enjoyed the sounds of the neighborhood animals but he was left with nothing but his thoughts and light given off by not-to-far-off city. Robert decided he had had enough for the evening and turned the corner to walk back to the apartment building, and just as he did, he saw the sweet, young lady he knew only as Mary. He had seen her from time to time and had dinner with her on one occasion, but he always loved seeing her. It made him feel better about humanity, as silly as it seemed. She saw him as well and waved. He waved back and she motioned with her hand that he should go talk with her for a while; not understanding the hand movement, Robert just stood there and shrugged, so she made her way across the street.

"I haven't seen you in a while Robert," she said with a raised voice, stepping off the curb on her side of the street, "I figured we could catch up if you have a few minutes."

"Oh, of course, I've been so caught up in work I haven't hardly had time to go out." He called back, still standing awkwardly in the same spot.

"I know how it is," she said, even though Robert knew she didn't, "I've had so much to do between the office and this great guy I met."

Robert felt like a three-thousand pound weight was just dropped on his chest. "Oh, that's nice." was all he could muster up.

Just then, Robert noticed the headlights coming down the street. They were headed straight for Mary, and they were moving fast. Before Robert could even think what to do, he did something he hadn't done in a long time: he ran. He ran straight for Mary, who looked shocked at seeing this large man come barreling at her. Robert knocked the woman out of the way of the speeding car, now going at what Robert judged to be about fifty-five miles an hour, although it's hard to tell with an eminent collision with a car, particularly when not in a car of your own.

Mary hit the ground, hair in her face and looked dead at Robert who appeared to simply accept his very near fate. She watched in horror as the man was hit by a red Chevrolet sedan. She stared as he went limp and rolled over the hood of the car. She looked on as he hit the windshield, cracking hit, and rolled over the roof of the car. She cried as he hit the ground, bleeding and in shambles. She screamed as she ran over and knelt by his side, dialing nine-one-one. All he did was lay there, unable to speak, left only with his thoughts; ironically, just when wished he could speak his mind.