Everyone was screaming. The streets were starting to empty with running, terrified humans. Me, I was sitting on the floor of the pavement, bloody-handed, applying pressure to Addison's harmed chest.
'Help! Please!' I called to people who were running past me. They glanced but didn't stop to help me. They left me to deal with this unsolvable, shocking problem. Addison didn't move. He was unconscious.
'Addie... Please.' I cried. The tears fell from my eyes like a raindrop trying to escape from the clouds. Was this it?
I tried calling the ambulance but I couldn't find my phone. I couldn't leave the wound unpressurized. I couldn't. I couldn't.
After 10 minutes of me piercing my hands down at the gun-shot wound and holding his head, out of nowhere a group of people in bright yellow jackets gathered around us.
'No! Stop. Where are you taking him?' I shouted as they moved him onto a transportation bed.
'Ambulance, ma'am. Do you know him?' One man said out of the group.
'Y-yes. He's my boyfriend. Please, let me ride with him.' I begged, my hands were covered in blood.
'Of course, ma'am. Follow me.'
I followed the man in bright yellow onto an ambulance. I sat at on the seat by Addison's head. His forehead and hair were smeared with dried up goopy blood. From where I was holding his head close to me. Where I thought I had lost him.
YOU ARE READING
The Thing that Differs Us...
RomanceHe's young, she's younger. He has a job, she's still in school. He is mature, well, she is too but not economically. Addison was attracted to Zariah like any guy would be attracted to a girl. Her height and her mature body, made Addison think that s...
