Is This True?

Chapter 29

"S-Scott."

I crawled towards him whilst on my knees as I managed to roll him over from off his side. The face I wasn't hoping to see was nonetheless Scott himself, lying as still and lifeless as he could ever be.

My hands frantically searched his torso for any signs of wounds, my fingers digging through a broken button on his jacket to only find blood. I pulled my hands back, my bloodstained fingertips rubbing together.

"No." I whimpered, reaching for his arm to find a pulse on his wrist. I was in such a frantic mess that all my life-saving skills and several years of medical school seemed to disappear from my brain. Unable to find a pulse, my hands and body suddenly began to convulse as I released desperate cries. However, there was no one to help me. I was completely alone in a room filled with people who wanted me dead. However, Denise had missed her target.

"No, no, no."

My left hand lifted the back of his head and cradled it softly, the fingers of my right hand running through his hair and down the sides of his face. At this point, I wanted more than anything to take his place. I would've rather gone through the pain instead of him. Scott didn't deserve this. No, he deserved so much more than this. He deserved peace. Happiness. Life. He deserved the world.

"S--Scott."

All I could I do was cry, tears, snot, and everything in between running down my face and onto his own as the blood and tears mixed together.

"Scott!"

I shook him repeatedly, but he never budged an inch. His eyes never fluttered. His chest never rose. He never moved.

"Scott." I let out one final cry, my head laying to rest on his chest. My ears pressing up against his heart, I hoped and prayed to hear a heartbeat beneath me, but I heard nothing. I waited longer, hoping and praying to feel his chest rise up and down to breathe, but again, I felt nothing.

Hurried soft whispers were spoken behind me as a shuffle of feet echoed about the room. By Samantha's orders, both Joan and Denise had left the scene as they left her alone with me. Probably to finish the job, I'd imagine. However, I honestly didn't care what their plan or next move was. I didn't care if someone behind me stabbed me in the back or shot me in the head. I honestly didn't care. It felt as if my world became dark, nothing even mattering to me anymore. All thoughts of family and friends were pushed to the back of my head as I only thought of the person beneath me.

I had mentioned to Denise earlier that sometimes love was about sacrifice, and that one would sacrifice themselves for the good and benefit of the other. Even if that person had to suffer, or in this case die.

Scott didn't have to do it. He didn't have to run in front of me to take the bullet and push me out of the way. He didn't have to, but he did. It was a debt I would never be able to repay, and because of that, I didn't know how I was going to live with myself. I would never be able to look anyone in the eye again. I would never be able to shoot a gun or rather look at a gun and call it good or beneficial to mankind. I wouldn't be able to walk down the street and see a bridal store or a mall and not think of him. I wouldn't be able to see donuts with sprinkles or be able to make spaghetti and not think of his mom's wonderful recipe. I wouldn't be able to step into Chelsea's house again without thinking of him, for all I could see was him standing in the doorway with wide eyes and a sheepish grin watching me dance in the hallway.

But lastly, I wouldn't be able to stare at the sun and feel the warm rays on my face without thinking of him, for all I would think about was the sunshine.

"Sunshine."

I could still hear his voice. And see his smile. His teasing, annoying smile.