The House was made of brick and mortar. It was very tuscan, very old world Italy. It was beautiful. And it made me proud that I had built it. These were the thoughts were rolling through my head as I slowly bled to death. My world was becoming more and more wobly by the nano-second and the most abstract things were rolling through my head. Maybe that's a trick of the brain, trying to retain the most amount of information, realize the most, and think the most abtract thoughts before it was shut down permanently. "C'mon buddy, you're gonna make it." We stumbled through the front door together like a pair of drunkards home front a late night out. "Gabby! Gabby, I need you down here now!" A slim read head was sprinting down the stairs, a small first aid kit it her hand. I was squinting at everything now, the twinkle in her eyes, the small crayon colored wagon my son had painted on the refridgerator. It was hard to keep my eyes open, my world was going dim. "AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" There was ripping pain in my chest as Gabby pulled all three rounds out of my torso. She carefully sewed each wound shut and sprinkled antiseptic over them. I was on fire. I couldn't feel anything except the pain in my chest. Somewhere in my mind, words swirled. "Are you okay?' I heard from a million miles away. The blackness finally took hold and I was gone.
To Be Continued.
No comments:
Post a Comment