Page 127 of My Turn

“I’m sorry… I didn’t… mean…”

“Shh. I did this. It’s my fault.”

One thing I’d learned about death was that it isn’t peaceful. The movies show someone slipping away on their last breath,then their eyes close. It was actually horrifically different than that in most cases.

“Sir, we need you to move.”

I shook my head, furious that they’d even tell me that. My palm pressed more firmly against Alana’s neck. Her blood painted my hands red, just like others had for her sake. It was all for her. It always was. But it led to this, so what had I actually accomplished? Wouldn’t I rather her be alive, even if I didn’t get to have her? No, I was selfish. I’d rather us both die than let her leave me.

“She’ll be okay,” I insisted. “She’s fine. It’s fine.”

“Sir.”

“No!” I shouted before I pulled her against my chest. She was weak and tired. Just weak and tired. “Alana, baby, wake up. You’re okay, you’re okay.”

I clutched her more tightly and began to rock back and forth. The way my body shuddered almost made it feel like she was moving. She was going to move again. She had to.

“We’re gonna go to Greece just like you want. We’re going to swim, touch all of the sculptures we’re not supposed to, and explore every cave they have. We’ll go hiking, even though you have terrible coordination and will probably sprain an ankle. I’ll carry you the whole time. I’ll always carry you. Do they have dolphins in Greece? We’ll find some, baby. I promise we’ll see everything you want.

“You’ll look so beautiful in those blue waters,” I went on. “I’ll take so many pictures. Not of the scenery; just of you. I never get tired of looking at you, baby. I just want you to smile for me and let me hear you talk. I want to listen to you talk forever. Please talk to me. I need to hear your voice.” Burying my face in her hair, I released a choked, pained sound. “Please talk to me. Please, please, please.”

“Medical is here,” one of the officers said.

“Sir, we need to have you checked out and we need you to tell us what happened.”

“You shot her,” I said. “You fucking shot her and she wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”

“We couldn’t know that, sir.”

“The gun was empty! Fuck!”

Someone took my arm and I shrugged them away. When they tried it again, I struck at them. The pain in my shoulder flared and it gave them the chance to thrust me onto my stomach. My hands were cuffed behind my back and no matter how hard I flailed, I couldn’t get free. The way my cheek was resting against the floor gave me a view of Alana. She was on her side with her hair covering most of her face. One of the paramedics crouched beside her to check for a pulse. I closed my eyes, unable to see them confirm it.

I couldn’t… I just couldn’t…

A couple months ago, I said there were two ways things could go. Both ended with me having Alana. There were no other options. But there was. No matter how much control I thought I had over the situation, something happened that I hadn’t planned for. She’d been taken from me. I had her, but now she was gone.

“Get the stretcher,” the woman called.

I craned my neck to see the person bringing it. He collapsed it and they got Alana onto it. I thrashed again, desperate to go wherever they were taking her.

“Let me go,” I demanded. “Let me go!”

“Sir, you need to calm down.”

“Let me go with her. Please. Fuck, please let me go with her.”

He looked at someone behind him, then got me to my feet. They kept the cuffs on but brought me upstairs. As we approached, I kept my eyes on the ambulance they loaded Alanainto. Once we got in, they freed my hands and I covered my mouth with them, not daring to tear my gaze away from her.

“Sir, let me see your shoulder,” one of the paramedics said.

I let them do what they wanted, but I refused to lay down or look at them. “Is she going to be okay?”

“We don’t know yet. It doesn’t look like the bullet went through her trachea, but we just can’t tell until she gets to the hospital.”

Maybe it slowed down enough when it hit me. Maybe, just maybe. I could work with that.

*****