"I'm not going to hurt you! I'm not going to hurt you!"
By some strange circumstance, Eduardo's killer now stood on my porch, one hand hovering over the weapon holstered on her hip while the other waved at me in surrender. I stood in the doorway, unwavering at this contradicting display, prepared to face whatever should befall me. She watched me intently, her hand prepared to snatch the gun from her side and send a bullet through my skull should I make any sudden movements. My eye locked with hers; a light breeze danced almost cinematically through her hair; a pile of leaves dismantled and tumbled across the sidewalk behind her. There we stood, incidental players in a most unusual western-esque standoff where I was woefully unarmed. It then occurred to me in all our standing what a strange coincidence it would be to suffer the same fate as Eduardo after having watched his own demise from this very place.
She folded her arms abruptly and exhaled.
"Heh. Thought so."
I stared at her blankly, incapable of any other action. She pulled the bottom of her shirt over the gun and gestured toward the door with her hand. I flinched at said gesture, expecting a deafening explosion of sound to accompany it.
"Well, may I come in?"
The blankness in my stare persisted. A coherent thought I could not muster.
"I, uh, saw you walking in the street earlier. Looked like you had something in your hand. You looked a bit different from the norm. There was, like, a kind of determination in your step, you know? Purpose. Not the kind of thing you usually see from somebody that, you know, looks like you do."
I managed a rather dumbstruck nod. She smirked and gestured toward the door again.
I nodded once again, entirely independent of thought. My body swung to the side like a gate and the woman made her way inside.
I slowly pushed the door closed in a stupor, tentatively thankful that my mind had only been figuratively blown. I turned toward my suspiciously nonviolent guest.
"So...yeah, hi. My name is Melody."