❝Calm your tits, man. You got your fucking dark roast latte with an extra shot of fuckboy all over my arm!❞
During an evening in May, Tasha Aquino finally acquires her chance at an adventure. However, it comes at a deadly price and her seemingly un...
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five ◌ the manifesto
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I was minutes away from passing out. I was extremely dizzy; I couldn't see straight, it was hard to breathe, and I was confident that I would die in this car. The pain was something I couldn't explain with mere words. The searing twinge wasn't isolated to just the area of my bullet wound. Instead, it flushed through the entire left side of my body. I wasn't sure how long I could last, and with each passing second, my eyelids grew heavier.
"How is it? How do you feel?"
Even through the pain, I still felt nothing but irritation for the boy in the driver's seat. Granted, I was thankful that Harry happened to be in my neighborhood at the perfect time, but his stupid question almost wished he left me to bleed out on the sidewalk.
"I fucking got shot in the arm Harry, how do you think I feel?" I snapped. I kept my head rested against the cool glass of the window. I didn't have to look at him to know that his eyes were rolling around in his sockets.
"Give me your arm," Harry was stopped behind a line of cars. The downtown traffic was insane for that time of night, but with the basketball game finished, it made complete sense.
"What?"
"Your arm, Tash, give me your fucking arm."
"Tash? Really? Tasha, is already a nickname," I retorted. "You can't give my nickname a nickname."
"For a girl who just got shot, you're still an insufferable cup of douche-water," Harry tugged my arm towards him. I let out a yelp from the pain that shot through my body. He proceeded to take off his flannel before tying it above my wound as a tourniquet.
"Turn right on Georgia Street, there's a hospital up there," I mentioned. I was beginning to breath heavily, and in precise patterns, similar to mothers about to give birth. I kept my mind strong, replaying happy memories in hopes the warmth from those blissful moments could keep me stimulated to stay awake.
But it was too hard.
Not the staying awake part— the happy memories part. Attempting to invade my mind with only peaceful thoughts was painful for my heart. All I could think about was my mom and Kat. All my brain wanted to replay over and over again, was the lifeless body of my mother sprawled across a car. My own mind was attacking itself with images of Kat being dragged into a van, her chilling screams fading into the sky. It was all too paralyzing, and I wasn't so sure if I could handle it.
"Hey," I croaked. "You missed Georgia Street."
I watched as the glowing sign of the hospital evaporated into a blur. At first, I thought it was a simple mistake, but as Harry continued to drive, it concurred to me that he wasn't taking me to the hospital. Something else took over the boy, and without warning, my shoulder crashed against the window. A scream left my lips as Harry swerved the car into a one-way street.
