Kayde O. Matthews
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PEW.
Something whisked past my ear.
PEW.
Something barely missed my head, ruffling my hair. "D-Danny?" I asked, pulling my lips away from yours. My eyes darted around the backyard, searching for the source of the noise. Something shuffled near the house, crunching leaves. You wrapped your arms around my small, fraile body and placed your chin on top of my head, protectively. I buried my head into your chest, afraid. The smell of pineapples tickled my nose.
"Who's there?" You yelled into the dark. Your chest rumbled and vibrated my cheeks. I pulled away from your chest. The rain fogged the backyard, making it hard to see. Suddenly, a drunk Priscilla stumbled into sight, a warm, brown liquid dripping from her mouth. Her tiny hands were gripping onto something small and shiny. It sparkled in the moonlight. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out what it was. She lifted the object infront of her. Her grasp was tight on it, and I could see her knuckles turning a ghostly white.
"What the-" You murmured.
PEW, PEW, PEW!
Bullets shot past my legs. "KAYDE RUN!" You yelled. We ran towards the fence and tried busting the fence down together. I used my other shoulder this time. I could hear bullets popping from her gun. "Danny," she gurgled, vomit dripping down her chin, "You don't belong... with.. Kayde. You belong...with.. me." She hiccupped in between her words. You desperately tried climbing over the wooden fence. Splinters polka dotted your hands, blood bubbling out from them. In a matter of seconds, Priscilla and her Budlight breath stood about five feet from us. She lifted the gun in her shaky fingers. "Come with me Danny. I won't hurt you. You don't belong with Kayde."
You stopped trying to get over the fence and turned towards Priscilla. You took a step towards her. "I don't belong with you. I belong with Kayde. I don't love you, Priscilla. I love Kayde." Your voice was trembling with fear and anger. And then it all happened in slow motion.
PEW. I almost could have sworn that I saw the bullet itself, flying towards me. You pushed me with such force that I fell into the wet, dewy grass. And just like any other cheesy storyline, you took a bullet for me.
Sort of. The bullet missed you by inches. You could have died. Thank God you aren't dead Danny. I thought to myself. You scooped me up from the ground and threw me over the fence and threw yourself over too. Priscilla kept firing anyways. We ran and ran and ran. We didn't know where to, but we just ran. After Priscilla's desperate firing faded into the trees, we stopped. That's when it started. You coughed. A lot. Pretty soon, you started to cough up blood. I panicked and I ran around, trying to find help, yelling at the top of my lungs. "HELP! HELP! I NEED MEDICAL ATTENTION!" My voice squeaked through the darkness, my throat numb from the absurdly cold August night. I then realized that I had my phone with me. I punched in 911 and hesitated before pressing the 'call' button. A picture of you coughing up all the blood from your body flashed in my mind and I immediately hit 'call'. Two rings. The other line crackled before answering.
"911, what's your emergency?" A cool voice said.
"My friend.." I paused. "My boyfriend. He's coughing up blood. And I'm panicking and I don't know what to do." I anxiously yelled into the phone. The lady told me to remain calm and that help was on the way. Before she hung up, she asked what street we were on. I glanced around and looked for a street sign. "Hazelwood Drive." I answered, looking at the green sign that stood at an intersection of streets. When she didn't answer, I looked back at the phone. The screen was black, matching the darkness around us. The phone was dead.
"Shit." I mumbled. I threw my phone onto the ground and heard a loud crunch. "Now what?!" I yelled at the sky. I heard you coughing uncontrollably in the background. You started wheezing. I whipped around and ran towards you. I hoisted you up into my arms and carried you around bridal style. Your head nuzzled against my chest this time and I saw something that made me cry out loud. A small slit was inserted in your neck, a small amount of blood flowing out. When we were on the other side of the wooden fence, a bullet must have sneakily made it's way through one of the gaps between the wood and slipped into your neck.
I ran. Again. You kept choking on your own blood. It dampened my shirt by the time I finally reached a medical center. I burst into the E.R room, your arms limp, dangling at your side. It took a while to get there and I almost collapsed halfway there. But the thought of you being seriously injured or even dead crawled into my mind and made me run even faster.
"I need help!" I panted.
"What's the problem?" A nurse in a crisp, white doctors coat walked up to me.
"My boyfriend. He got shot and he's coughing up blood!" Her eyes widened at the word 'boyfriend'.
"We'll take care of it. Just go back to the waiting room. Relax, ok? We'll fix him up." But she avoided eye contact.
A/N: HEY GUYS. THANKS FOR ALL THE READS. I LOVE YOU ALL DEARLY. STAY TUNED.
