Kiss It Better
“Give me your wallets
and valuable, now, and no one gets hurt.” The moonlight refracted off the
muzzle of the mugger’s gun.
Her stomach clenches as
she gasps, coating her lungs with frost. Trembling, she slowly moves her purse
down her arm, eyes locked on the gun aimed at her. As she extends her purse to the man her
boyfriend makes a sudden movement beside her, and then a searing pain rockets through
her body. Falling to her knees, she watches as the smoking gun fell with her
and the coward fled the scene.
He drops beside her,
clinging to her bleeding body; her name plays on repeat from his lips, the
sound echoing in the parking structure. Blood stains his hands as he tries to
staunch the bleeding wound in her chest. The Tiffany’s box in his coat pocket
stabs his leg uncomfortably as she shifts to look weakly up at him.
Her hand finds his
cheek, fingers cold as ice. “Kiss it all better,” She cries, “I’m not ready to
go.”
“I’m so sorry.” He says
again and again.
“It’s not your fault,
love. You didn’t know.” She coughs, “You didn’t know.”
And then she’s gone.
Shaking, he takes her
gold hand in his and kisses her face.
“Everything will be all
right,” he says.
On the ground beside
her ne notices the gun, rage filling his being, churning his thoughts and
feelings, mutating them into poison that fills his veins. Picking up the
murderer’s weapon he runs after him, fire in his eyes.
“I’ll avenge my lover
tonight,” He says.
Waking with a start he
sits up, reaching to his left instinctively. She does not lie beside him, and
hasn’t for years. He sits behind prison bars; twenty-five to life, and she’s
not in his arms. How he had thought that a bullet to the heart through the back
of the man who tore his world apart would fix things was beyond him. But he
holds onto her memory. All she is, is a memory.
Falling back onto his
pillow he cries,
“Stay with me until I
fall asleep. Stay with me.”
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