A few things that help me know for sure he was one of the people that helped with the destruction of…well, the destruction of everything, was that he’s burnt, hardly moving, has darker skin, sits in a plane, and, when he sees us, he looks up at us with the most pleading and the most guilt I’ve ever seen pouring out of a person’s eyes. The plane he’s sitting in looks like it was engulfed in flames, along with the pilot, a day or two ago. Both he and the plane are charred, misshapen, and just sad looking.
Michael and I continue walking towards him, and the man soon jumps out of the plane, and runs over to us. We back up a few steps, and he stands still, looking at us. “Hello?” Michael asks after a long moment of silence. The man does not respond. “Um,” Michael says awkwardly, “Hi, I’m Michael, and this is my girlfriend, Alicia.” He still doesn’t say anything. “Are-are you alright?”
Suddenly, the man collapses. He curls into a ball, and lets out random noises that show he’s in pain. His hand is clutching his side, which has a blood stain that just started freshly bleeding. I kneel down and ask, “Are you okay? What’s wrong? How can I help you…?” I trail off. Then I see it. A man, who used to work at the office with my mom, actually, is standing several yards away with a rifle. “Oh, God,” I whisper, not taking my eyes off the shooter. “Oh, God…”
“Alicia?” Michael asks, obviously not seeing him. I don’t respond. My eyes are glued to the crazed man. “Alicia! What is it?”
“Run,” I whisper.
“What?”
“Run!”
Without another moment’s hesitation, I hoist the wounded bomber onto my shoulder, surprised by the lightness of him, and I grab Michael and start running. He stumbles as I run and run, faster than I ever thought I could. Images keep playing in my mind of the man with the gun, only making me run faster. I sprint my way across the charred remains of my hometown, until I reach a still-standing corner of a building to hide behind for a moment to catch my breath. The sound of gunfire explodes in my ears.
“Alicia! What was that?” Michael asks, bending over and breathing heavily.
“That,” I say, taking deep breaths every second and looking over my shoulder to see where the man is, “was an attacker.”
He looks where I’m looking, seeing nothing still. “Weapon?”
I take a deep breath in. “Gun.”
He takes a deep breath out. “Good thing you’ve got such long legs,” he says, laughing a bit. I punch him in the shoulder. He always underestimates me.
The man moans as he continues to dangle over my shoulder. Oops. Almost forgot about him. I set him down in the deepest part of the corner, and look at his wound, gagging immediately. It’s soaked in blood, and really large. I know how to treat it. There’s a certain plant that you use, and it not only disinfects the wound, it also helps take some pain away. I look around, and spot one a few feet away. The problem is, it’s out in the open—the gun guy would have an open shot. But that plant is exactly what this man needs in order to not bleed to death.
I take a deep breath and sprint.
Michael yells behind me, cusses a few times, and eventually gives up. I reach the plant, grab a leaf, and look up just in time to see a bullet fly towards me. In an instant, the pain floods through my body. But then everything changes. Instead of pain, my whole body feels like it’s just…swelled up. I can’t hear or feel anything. I can only see. I look down slowly, dazed, and see blood covering my leg, coming from a small hole in my side. I look up again, and see Michael coming towards me. Everything seems to be in slow-motion. I can hardly hear Michael saying “No,” but I can see his mouth forming an “o” as he slowly sprints towards me. My vision is fish-eyed, and everything on the edges is getting black. The black covers my whole vision and I lean back, letting the bullet take over me.
Michael’s strong arms cradle me, and I see tears flowing out of my eyes at the same speed the blood is flowing from my leg. I smile at him and mouth the words, “I’m okay.” But I’m not. I’m not and I know it. I lean my head to the side, and the only thing I can hear is the continuous flow of my boyfriend’s sobbing.
