His vibrant green eyes seemed to fade as he lay silent in my arms, blood collecting on the ground beneath him. Tears dripped slowly down my cheeks as I watched the only person I ever loved drift away from me. I had to do it, there was no other way. So, now my dagger stayed buried deep beneath his skin, slowly pulling out every ounce of life he had left. Bloodied finger marks stayed inked on my skin, drying as the sun traveled down through the sky. The moon grew closer as night fell, and I knew there was no chance of saving him. I would never again see the happiness in his eyes. Or the faltering smile he had when I sobbed in his arms. Or the way he was never afraid. I would never forget the way he pulled the knife deeper into himself, saving me for the last time. I could never repay that debt. I would never be able to find a way back to him. I would forever be lost. So I set the body down in the snow, letting the falling snowflakes clean his wounds.
And I carried on.
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If Wishes Could Fly
Short StoryA collection of short stories and poems for when I'm feeling inspired to write or have intense writer's block.
