Chapter Twenty-three
He crashes through the back door. The key still in the lock, evidence of her previous presence. He runs out into the same cold she experienced and the same wet grass that licked at her feet. He does not drag his hand over the tall grass or drag his feet; he runs the fastest he has ever run. The surge to saving her is too much for him and pounds each leg into the ground that send jolts through his battered body.
The woods tower over him, he feels the same security in their natural fortress. The silence eases his mind too but guilt will rack him forever and more.
He takes a more direct route to the fallen tree however branches snag at his shirt and skin as he runs. The red lines look unfamiliar on his arms.
He looks straight, hoping to see her eyes still open.
He finds them, open but her eyes are lifeless in her hollow sockets. Nothing registers on her face as he nears. The gun that lay under their bed is in her bony hand. She grips it too tight, not letting it fall to the ground. Her eyes find his and he sees that the light has already left them.
He doesn't realize it, but screams ring out from his throat pleading her to stop. However she does not want her silence interrupted.
In a moment of pure fear and hope, she pulls the trigger hard with a dismantled smile plastered to her face.
The shot rings out through the trees and scatters birds into frenzy. Her body falls limp and collapses to the floor. Blood exploded from her head and sprayed the ground beyond her. Wide eyes had to witness this.
He reaches her body and throws himself at her. He pulls her body to his chest as his ripped cries escape him. The noise is unbearable and rebounds off the fallen tree.
His world has crashed in a matter of minutes and hope has become fatal. He lay unknowing in their bed fifteen minutes ago, now he is crouched over the body of the girl he loved more and more each second they were together.
Blood streaked and tear stroked, his face lifts and spots the gun still in her limp hand. He takes it from her cold grip and holds it, marvelling in its power and horror.
A thought he has contemplated in the past runs across his mind. End it all. She had the right idea, to give up the horrid for comfort, to be in their silence forever. Will he choose an icy end pressed against his head?
The gun seemingly moves closer with every heaved breath thrown from his lungs. We could lay here together in our silence. I couldn't leave her alone there?
The gun sits inches away from his head and his eyes drift to the soulless girl that lies in his lap. Her eyes are wide but no emotion hides behind them, bright blood is sprayed across her pale skin with a pattern that resembles lace and her lips are slightly parted, as if she is about speak or heave out a sigh. Her chest should rise and fall, her eyes should blink away the tears left and her cheeks should be rosy with the blush she carried. They are now just blushed with blood.
He can't leave her alone within her forever silence; he wants to be with her no matter what. He craves the way into silence and out of terror too. He no longer wants to save himself from the desired end.
The gun has reached its destination and now he must gather the courage to pull the trigger. He already has the reasons and the strength but where is the courage? She had already lost that but hopelessness took over. Hope still lives inside of him so bravery must be spurred up to pull hard on the trigger that lies under his fingertips. But he's afraid of no terror.
A familiar sound of rampaging feet crashes through the woods. Twigs snap and leaves fly with figures that trapeze through the silence.
It's now or never. The gun is ready but he is not.
A small forceful body smashes into him from the right and the gun is knocked from his grip. His body slumps to the ground under the pressure of the man named Frank. Gerard is surprised by how much pain his arm is in and is about to shout at the man who now sits upon him but then he realizes; he tried to kill himself.
Frank begins to shout, 'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!' Gerard just looks up to the man with an expressionless face. 'She's dead,' is all he manages as he chokes on his tears. Saying it out loud makes it all real.
The man on top of Gerard now crumples into tears too and crushes his face into his shoulder, causing snot and salty tears to smudge Gerard's checkered shirt. Ray and Mikey also crumple into the bundle of sorrow and grief.
Five barely beating hearts become four barely beating hearts and one heart that will never rattle again.
Her haven is not silent; weeping wraps itself around her trees and leaves. It will never be noiseless again.
YOU ARE READING
A Bell Of Juxtaposition
Fiksi Penggemar'A hand jabs my neck. My eye shoots open in the shock of the icy finger touching me.' You wake in a dark, damp, box room with hardening stares on your bare bloody body. A shadow sits cramped in the corner. BANG...he's shot dead. 'Where am I?' This...
