A Match Made in Hell

74

"NO!" George screams at the top of his lungs, my heart skips fifteen beats.

No.

No, no, no, this couldn't be happening. Not now, not today, not ever.

The bullet pierces through his chest, splattering blood all over the floors as he falls onto the ground painfully, gasping for air.

"No," George cries, his voice completely breaking as he sobs uncontrollably, "No." he shakes his head in denial, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall as he tries to breathe.

Karl is the first to make a move as the soldiers are distracted, kicks one with his elbow, instantly kicking the other in the chest without hesitating.

He shoots the man holding George's throat, causing him to drop to the floor with a thud and crawl to his boyfriend slowly, staring at the pool of blood on the floor.

Karl rescues me next, both of us bursting into tears the moment he looks into my eyes.

I stare down at George, crying on the floor with clay in his arms, bleeding out to his death as he struggles to keep his eyes open.

"I'm sorry." He cries, cries so hard to the point where his voice is inaudible, it's obvious that he can barely breathe. "I love you, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Clay whispers, choking on his words. "I love you, and I forgive you." He nods his head slowly.

I drop down to my knees on the floor, almost puking up at the sight of my brother, my best friend, my everything, my whole entire world.

I take his hand in mine, intertwining my fingers with his. They're cold, almost too cold for me to even touch.

My breath hitches, hundreds of tears fall down my face before I even realise it.

"Don't leave me." A sob escapes George. "Don't leave me, please. Don't do this to me."

A second goes by, one damn second, and his eyes are suddenly closed, and he's not breathing.

"NO!" George screams, screams so loud I could pass out. Screams so loud that he draws us so much attention to the point where so many more soldiers step into the room, but we're lucky they're with us.

A piece of my heart breaks, and falls down to my stomach, and I know it will never be repaired again.

Not ever.

Approximately 43 seconds ago I lost my best friend, the one person who has been standing by my side since I was fourteen.

My first training partner, my first best friend, someone I owe my life to, my older brother, my other half.

A group of people stand above us from the back, which makes me turn around instantly in fright.

Ana's face disgusts me, the look of fright and how afraid she looks, how disgusted and traumatised she looks, and how devastated she looks.

All of them, Alex, Christian, Tina, Luke, Aaliyah, Fool, their faces scare me. They all look devastated and afraid and broken.

But not even half as devastated and as afraid and as broken as George looks.

He struggles to breathe, screaming uncontrollably as he holds clay's dead body in his arms, his face gone blue.

Karl leans onto my shoulder, sobbing and crying as if he can't breathe, holding onto my arm like he's about to fall and pass out.

Soldiers barge in, all guns pointed at Beverly, she drops her weapon in an instant without hesitation.

"DON'T SHOOT HER!" George screams, holding his gun up and pointing it at them. "Do not shoot her."