Dispatch: 911, what's the emergency?
Caller: Help! There's an accident! Blood! So much blood!
Dispatch: Calm down, sir. Can you give us the exact location?
Caller: Ah! Er... 19th Street, Forth Junction, West Abbys... Hurry up!
Dispatch: The ambulance will be there as soon as possible, sir...
***
White snow blankets the ground, transforming the once green fields into a serene winter wonderland. The sun hides behind a veil of lazy clouds, casting a muted glow across the landscape.
Silence reigns in this secluded park, where few venture. It's a place where the deceased find solace, nestled within the walls of a large, grey building. Glass boxes line the corridors, each holding its own urn.
Standing amidst the tranquility, a figure donning brown boots stands calmly. Wrapped in a thick, fluffy trench coat, they bury their hands in the pockets for a brief respite from the biting cold. Wisps of cold breath escape their lips, a testament to the frigid air.
Their gaze remains fixed on a particular glass box, housing two urns. With head bowed and hands clasped, they find solace in silent contemplation.
Soon, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches their ears. Another pair of boots, black and made of leather, draws near. Long fingers tap the shoulder of the figure in the brown coat.
They turn their head to meet the gaze of the newcomer, and a smile graces their lips. The person lets out a heavy sigh, their attention returning to the glass box.
"Are you done?" the newcomer asks, their voice filled with understanding. The figure in the brown coat murmurs softly, "All is well, at least for now."
"Yeah," the other person replies.
"Sorn, I'm sorry for everything," the figure in the brown coat says, their voice laced with sincerity. Sorn releases a helpless sigh but manages a smile. He shakes his head gently, reaching out to take the long fingers in his, intertwining them with his own.
"There's a reason behind all this. No need to apologize," Sorn gently caresses the fingers entwined with his own. Their eyes meet, filled with a mix of emotions.
"Shall we?" Sorn asks, ready to make their way. But as he prepares to move, the grip on his hand tightens.
"Is something wrong?" he inquires, concern evident in his voice. Sorn adjusts the coat around the figure, ensuring their warmth and comfort, and carefully fastens a button.
"Do you think I made the right decision?" the figure asks, uncertainty lacing their words. Sorn lets out a sigh, understanding the weight of the question. He offers a reassuring smile.
"Yes, you did," he affirms, his voice filled with conviction. With those comforting words, they begin to move, their steps slow but steady, leaving the peaceful confines of the columbarium behind them.
***
3 months ago
"Male. 25 years old. Severe head injury. Broken leg..." the charts were passed over to the on-duty doctor in the ER, detailing the condition of the patient.
"Ba...by..."
The doctor asked the paramedic for the patient's ID.
Another stretcher was wheeled into the ER entrance.
"Female. 35 years old. Abdominal pain..."
"Sa... Save my baby!" the woman pleaded, her voice filled with desperation.
YOU ARE READING
SHADY
RomanceA dream is merely a wandering mind while the body is in deep rest. For Gia, the most solemn night is nothing more than a dream. When she is assaulted in Paris, everything seems hazy. Until she receives a phone call that changes everything. COVER COL...
