[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Before: Blood


Ashley

I shot him. I shot my best friend. I shot the man that I love. I shot the only person who has ever truly loved me. I looked at him, and I pulled the trigger, and I shot him.

I grabbed at the blood pouring from his chest. I scrambled, my hands turning red, trying to shove it back into him. It was irrational, it was stupid, but I was mindless. I was shaking like a leaf, I was crying so hard my eyes were probably going to dry up. I was choking, coughing, sobbing, screaming his name. For a moment, he looked like he might've been seeing me. But then he wasn't. He wasn't because his eyes rolled back and they closed and his heart stopped beating. I felt it when it stopped. I heard the little gasp as his lungs emptied.

Chris grabbed me. He pulled me up. I dropped the Glock.

"Nick!" I sobbed, "Nick please. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, please." Chris guided me quickly. Back through the doors. Everything was a blur. The air on my face. The sunlight. Zoey screaming. I stumbled. I hit the pavement on my knees. Chris yanked me back to my feet as I threw up, it splashed the tar at my feet, spattered on my legs. There was a wailing siren, a thousand voices screaming and yelling. Chris shoved me into the car. I heard him slamming doors. I numbly turned as he buckled Zoey into her carseat. She was wailing. I lifted my hands to soothe her, and saw the blood.

Nick's blood. I was covered in it.

"Oh my fucking God," I sobbed, "I killed him."

Chris was suddenly in the driver's seat beside me. He was turning the key. Where he got the key I don't know. Maybe Nick left it there when he got out. Probably. Nick always left the key in the car incase I needed the heater or the air or the radio. He thought of little things like that.

"Oh my God." I put my hands on my face, on my cheeks. The smell of Nick's blood filled my senses. "Oh my God."

The engine of the car roared to life. The sirens got louder.

I looked up in the mirror. I couldn't look myself in the eye. The diamond glinted from under all the blood.

"Can we spend the rest of our lives together?"




Nick

The screaming. It was everywhere. It was inside me, outside me, all around me. It was loud. It shook me. It took me too long, staring into the blinding white to realize that the screaming was me.

"PUT HIM OUT!"

I struggled. My wrists were clamped down. Fuck, everything was a dream? Was it all a dream? I was waking up from a coma or something. None of it was real. I was still in the fucking airplane. I struggled against the bindings. "GET ME OUT! HELP ME!" I screamed. "GET ME OUT!"

"Step back."

"But the bleeder --"

"Step back!"

I struggled harder. "HELP ME! ASHLEY!!! Jesus Christ. ASHLEY!!!!! ASHLEY I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! PLEASE!" I looked around, "Where is she? Where's the Indian woman? I need to save her too! SAVE HER TOO!"

"Mr. Carter, please..."

The blinding light faded into a blue. A shape hovered over me. The pain searing in my chest and lungs intensified. "Oh Jesus, Jesus! PLEASE! It can't be over!" I fought like hell. "ASHLEY!"

"He needs blood."

"Hang another liter."

Something hard and cold was pressed over my mouth. The window, I thought. I panicked. My face. No. No I wouldn't let it happen again. I struggled, waving my arms, trying to push the window away. Trying to escape.

"PLEASE!" I begged. "ASHLEY! ZOEY! Please!!!"

"Here's the needle sir."

There was a poke in my wrist, where I couldn't move it. And cold traveled through my veins.

Cold and calm.

The shapes and the blue faded to black.

And I fell back. The struggle taken out of me.