Witness

I was never meant to be there that morning. I usually avoid Mondays at the bank, too many people. Too much noise, but I’d been putting this off for too long, the cheque was burning a hole in my bedside table. It’s 2026, who still sends cheques? My auntie who despite constantly sharing drunk minion memes on Facebook, doesn’t trust the internet enough to send money online, that’s who.

Inside, the air was musty, a mix of commercial carpet cleaner and something metallic, probably coins. I looked around out of boredom, there were two tellers open and six people ahead of me in the queue, four in the one next to me and no one seemed to be in a rush. There was a security guard sat by the entrance and two cameras on the ceiling.

The security guard looked bored. Mid fifties, tired and most likely wishing he was anywhere else. There was a woman at the front of the line was arguing loudly about her overdraft fees and that’s when quietness was shattered.

“EVERYONE DOWN, NOW!!” It’s kind of surreal, in the movies there’s panic and screaming instantly. In reality it takes a second for what’s really happening to sink in. Everything goes quiet, as if the whole world inhales before the panic begins.

I didn’t get a good look at him. Average build, black hoodie, gloves, backpack and a mask. No discernable accent or identifying features, I’m not sure I’d be able to identify him if I passed him in the street, which I guess was the point.

The guard reached for his radio, but hesitated just a second too long BANG! A warning shot told the guard this guy meant business, and he wasn’t to me messed with.

I told myself this would be quick. In and out. That’s how these things usually go. Compliance equals survival. That’s the silent agreement everyone makes without speaking. Give them what they want, walk away later. I repeated it over and over in my head. Money is insured. Lives aren’t. The guard would be fine, I convinced myself. It was a warning, that’s all.

Everyone dropped to the floor and the masked man moved in between the two tellers, keeping his eye on both of them “open the drawers, put the money on the counter.” He didn’t shout. He was precise in everything he said, almost casually.

The gunshot still echoed in my head, bouncing around louder than it had in the room. After that, every noise felt amplified — fabric shifting, coins clinking, someone’s ragged breathing.

The woman who had been arguing about her overdraft was consumed by fear, trembling all over, a complete mess. There was an elderly man next to her. The fear was all over his face, but he was stoic, trying to be brave. My head was buzzing. I took deep breath and tried to stay as calm as I could, praying this would all be over soon.

The cashiers put the money on the counter and the masked man began bundling it into the bag. He worked quickly and methodically, no sense of panic or even urgency, that was the most unsettling part.

Someone was sobbing in the corner, not loudly but in the quiet that had fallen it was the loudest sound in the room. The old man cleared his throat, as if he thought about saying something and then decided against it.

Another lie the films tell you is, no one wants to be a hero. There’s no brave soul just waiting for his moment to kick-ass and save the day, when the chips are down self preservation kicks in and everyone stays quiet just wanting to get out alive.

A crash from behind me distracted him, the guard had tried reaching for his radio again and knocked over his chair. BANG, this one wasn’t a warning shot.

I heard the guard cry out, but didn’t look back. I didn’t want to see what I knew had happened.

In that brief moment, one of the cashiers took her chance and activated the silent alarm.

The masked man turned back around and continued putting the money in the bag, seemingly unaware he was now on a timer.

Fear had taken over again. Everyone was still and quiet, not daring to make a move. Suddenly, sirens. Distant at first but growing louder. He was done, it was time to go. He picked up the bag from the counter and made for the exit.

He left towards the rear of the building towards the fire exit onto one of the back streets. I watched as he took his hoodie off and turned it inside out and disappeared out of view.

As the sirens grew louder, people realised he wasn’t coming back, and started to slowly stand up and comfort one another. It was over. We’d survived. Slowly we began filing out into the street as the police arrived. There was a crowd gathering outside, curious onlookers and even some press.

“You say he left via the rear exit?” The officer asked, looking up from his notebook. “That’s right” I said “He’d have left onto park street, or possibly McKinley.” The officer nodded “and he took his hoodie off?” “That’s right” I said “it seemed to be reversible, dark on the outside and white on the inside”

We were sat in the bank manager’s office, the police were conducting interviews with all of the witnesses to try and get an account of what had happened that day.

The officer put his pad down and stood up. I stood up too. “Thank you Mr Jenkins” The officer said, shaking my hand “We have your details, we’ll be in touch if we need anything else.” He walked me to the door. I walked down the corridor and out onto the street. Pausing, I reached into my pocket, pulled out the mask and threw it into the bin by the door, put my earphones in and made my way off into the distance, without looking back.