He said he wanted to take me on an adventure tonight. I have never been to this side of town before, east of the river, across the train tracks, where the nighttime skyline hides the stars. Fireworks went off in the distance. The music from the speakers banged out of my chest, the bass causing my skin to shake, but it felt good. The vibrations ran through me, connecting my ears to my heart to my stomach. He passed me the joint, and I inhaled. I held the smoke in as long as I could, feeling the calm set through my body. I loved the smell of it. It smelled bad, but a good bad, like hugging that sweaty musky man I love after a basketball game. I took another puff as I reminded myself that he doesn’t love me back. He held my hand in his and gently rubbed his thumb against mine, but he wouldn’t even glance at me. I can tell he is thinking hard. Possibly thinking of how I had just confessed that love to him and he told me he didn’t feel the same way. The awkward silence.
We stepped outside the car, and I gathered my things into my purse. Just as I had turned around to close the door, my back started to sting. It wasn’t what I expected. It was less than a second but felt like time had stopped for hours. They say you see your whole life flashes before your eyes. But I didn’t see anything. I felt him. My whole life, all I felt was him. A montage of him. I could feel the red silk shirt he was wearing the day we met. I could smell his Coach cologne I bought him for Christmas last year. I could taste the pizza he bought for us on that random Tuesday a few months ago. I could hear his voice calling my name as we laughed like uncontrollable children in the grocery store. But he wasn’t laughing with me. he was screaming.
I snapped back when I couldn’t take a breath. I struggled for a gasp of air. At first, I thought I was drowning. I could feel wet all around me. I could feel him pulling at me like grabbing a body out of water. I was sure I had fallen into an ocean of unbearable pressure that was crushing my lungs. But when I opened my eyes, I could still see the moon. Clear as day, bright, like a diamond. Nothing but the air all around me, yet I couldn’t breathe. I could still hear the screaming. Louder and clearer. It was like a cross between his voice calling me to stay with him. And God calling me home. I choked and had an iron taste in my mouth. Then reality set in. I had been shot in the chest.
His hands were covered in blood, and he pushed as hard as he could on the wound. He held my head in his lap, off the ground, brushing my hair off my face as he exclaimed it’s going to be okay. Help is coming. Stay with him. Stay with him. He said those words I wanted so desperately to hear. He said them over and over again. Those 8 letters both drained my heart faster than the bullet wound ever could, yet it filled me with such bliss, such a peace I have longed for. Faster by the second my mind was dying. my hand grabbing his, rubbing my thumb against his one last time. And slowly I slipped away, with a slight smile on my face. Death brought me the love I had always wanted. And I could die knowing I had him.