Stitching a Bullet Hole

"One vanilla bean frappucino and two macchiato, please." The guy's voice sounded sleepy. He was wearing a plain black shirt with the words 'Good Vibes' printed in neon green ink.

"Your name, sir? Or would you like to have different names on each cup?" Sevannah asked after accepting his cash. She smiled sweetly, trying to look cheerful in her uniform--a gray apron on top of a pink shirt and dark pants with a matching checkered baker boy cap.

"Oh, just put Gary on the vanilla bean's then Anne and Howard on the rest." The guy said and when the transaction was done, he went and found a seat in the center of the coffee shop.

"Good evening, ma'am. My name's Sevannah. How can I help you?" She greeted the next customer.

It went like that for the next four hours. With thick concealer, Sevannah had managed to cover the dark circles surrounding her eyes, almost looking like she had not lost a week of sleepless nights. She almost lost her job for missing four consecutive days and being back here with everyone acting like nothing had happened was a puzzle. She couldn't care less though, every day was nightmare enough to her. She had no time to solve another problem.

At around 9:00 pm, Sevannah's duty ended and as she pushed her way out, bells chiming above the glass door, she wondered why the manager's voice sounded too soft and kind earlier when she sent in the reports, very unusual indeed.

"Sevannah!"

She already had her foot inside the bus when someone shouted her name. Stepping back, she turned her body and saw a figure running towards her, a shadow turning into a woman-like image when it reached the well-lit parts of the street.

Sevannah gestured the driver to go on without her when she realized who the figure was. She sat down on a nearby bench, waiting.

The figure--now a woman with shoulder-length, bronze hair, wearing a dark shirt and loose khaki pants--settled beside her, panting heavily.

"I went to the shop to see you." She said, catching her breath, slower now.

"Karen. I--" Sevannah knew she was not ready for this confrontation.

She tried to look at her friend but there was something heavy on her chest, she was forced to look away.

"I'm sorry. I know it's not enough, but I. Am. Sorry." She still found her voice.

Karen reached out for her arms, forcing her to turn her gaze back at her again.

"Sevannah, you don't need to apologize! Look at me goddamit!" She exclaimed, starting her friend. Sevannah's round, hazel eyes were now facing Karen.

"Is this why you didn't go to his funeral? Because you're trying to convince yourself that everything is all your fault? You know that's not true."

"It is the truth." Now it's Sevannah's time to grip both of her friend's shoulders. "Karen, I made him do it! I--" Her eyes went flying before returning to Karen.

"I forced him to. I forced him. I did. I killed him!" She was shaking Karen when the bag of tears bursted.

There she was believing her well had dried up. But it was dug out a little deeper and now, it was overflowing as she had spoken the words at last.

I killed him.

Karen hugged Sevannah tightly while saying the words over and over again, "No, no, no, it's not your fault."

They cried in each other's arms under the moonless night sky.