44 Seconds Stories

Heartbeat

How does it feel to be finally dead?

Nothing, you can't feel anything, can't move, and can't say anything else as what I would imagine death is.

I told myself I wouldn't regret anything if I died.
But, seeing someone who loved and cared for me even though I'm bad for her makes me want to get killed less.

My eyes opened, as I was carried to the emergency room, I couldn't see anything but flashy lights 'cause of my blurry vision.

I couldn't forget her terribly, tear-stained face.
I felt something. Something that pierced my stomach, something I wanted to vomit all out.

I was feeling guilty for the first time, after a long time.

BEEP!... BEEP!...

I was leaning against the wall, it's been two hours since I woke up. still in a drowsy state after they gave me medication.

I looked at my right leg, there was a bandage around my upper thigh after I was shot by a deranged drug dealer that I had been searching for months now, for Owen's case.

This involves the drug dealer spiking Owen's drink which leads to him overdosing.

I sighed deeply while looking up at the ceiling.
My partner is taking over the case now, as I saw his expression filled with anger and frustration before I passed out.

Then, I heard the door open and saw her.
The one who wept over my limp, cold body.

She quickly came over and grabbed the collar of my t-shirt tightly.
Her puffy eyes, still pink-tinted began to form tears rolling on her already tear-stained cheeks.

"You!.. You could have died!" she sobbed out. "You shouldn't have taken the bullet for me!"

I felt her grip tighten, honestly I couldn't be frustrated when handling someone who cares about me. Of course, I took the bullet just to protect her, she's a civilian, no more than that.

"I'm protecting you as a detective protecting a civilian" I gritted. "I didn't do it for you."

That last sentence felt like a lie- am I lying to myself? what the fuck am I lying to myself for?
I stared at her continuously trembling and sobbing.

I bit the bottom of my lip and thought to myself- 'fuck it.' as I wrapped my arms around her.

It felt awkward yet nice.

Why do I feel.. something?

I felt her heartbeat beating faster similar to mine, she sobbed even more as she punched me pathetically on the back.

"You fucking bastard, can you.." she trailed off "-even understand what I'm saying?!.." she hissed.

I sighed in frustration as I hugged her tightly. Why would you even cry for a person who treats you so badly? You're just a landlord and I'm a detective. We have only crossed paths because I needed clues.

I thought to myself, as I awkwardly patted her head, I felt the nicotine I inhaled in my lungs released from my body after I held her in my arms.

I hate you for crying after I saved your life, you should be thanking me.

I hate you for keeping my cigarettes away from me ever since I met you.

but, maybe.. I should be thankful that you kept me smoking less even though I can't stop dying and lying.

I'll just.. keep you...

Safe.

-I guess.

(credits to a friend of mine who fixed my grammar)