Book of Random Thoughts

I'm Sorry (Short Story)

Alfred couldn't help but look down at the gravestone, tears forming has she placed both a white and purple rose on the ground. Dika Braginski, it read in the stone. She was gone was all Alfred thought has he looked at the name, sobs from the people she had touched who had came to see her be put in the ground. The memory of what happened came back to him when his sister put a hand on his shoulder. 

The 2ps had invaded the house him and the G8 had been in. Dika and Alex had also been in that to help the eight with whatever they wanted to. The whole thing really was a blur to him. The only thing he remembered was hearing his father and sister yell at him to move. Yet he had been to slow. His Alaskan friend wasn't though. She pushed him out of the way before he heard a BANG! 

The whole house stood still once the 2ps ran off. They had seen what had happened and did not want to see what had happened when they figured it out. Dika stood there, blood coming out of the gun shot wound in her chest. Her violet eyes were wide and her breath shacking. Tips of her white hair was now stained with her own blood. 

"Dika!" everyone yelled. Ivan and Kiku ran over, trying to save her. Yet it was too late. Too much blood was gone and the bullet had hit her heart enough to kill her. 

Cries came from different people when they saw she was gone. Other tried to pray Ivan from his daughters dead body so they could take her away. Alfred on the other hand laid on the ground in shock. That should have been him. Yet she saved him. After that he remembered Alex's hand on his shoulder. 

Alfred turned and hugged her, sobbing into her shoulder. He was shacking, mumbling things like it should have been him and she shouldn't have pushed him like that. Alex just rubbed his back, not knowing what to say to her brother to make him feel better. This was one thing she couldn't fix. 

Later that night Alfred laid in bed, staring at the wall. He was laying his head on a tear stained pillow, wishing he could go back in time and fix this. He could have saved her if he had done something better. She could always protect him, but just like his papa couldn't save Joan, he couldn't save his best friend either. 

"Don't be sad," he heard a thick Russian accent tell him has a hand rubbed his back. "It wasn't your fault, it was mine. Just go to sleep. Even if you don't know it, I'm always here." The hand soothed him to sleep. 

The next morning, he woke up. He glanced at his table and blinked in surprise. Sitting there was Dika's knife and a purple and white rose. He smiled a little, picking the knife up. He got out a belt and slipped the knife in it, than put the rose in a vase. 

"Thanks Dika," he whispered, rubbing the rose's petals. "See you in another life."