Bleeding into the sand

March 13, 2010
By katieholden SILVER, Rochester, Massachusetts
katieholden SILVER, Rochester, Massachusetts
8 articles 0 photos 1 comment

He walked along the sand his feet bare and uncomfortable feeling the thick clumps sticking in between his toes. The shirt he'd had on was now crumpled in his fist. It was a nice shirt, he hadn't wanted to ruin it. He coughed once, twice. He was getting a cold, he thought. He swallowed; throat slightly inflamed, watery eyes, achy joints. He felt ill and in a very bad place to be feeling so. He continued on leaving the dismal glow of the one functional streetlight behind.

The waves crashed against the sand, the rain pelted it so severely tiny grains would jump up and cling to his legs. He sneezed. Great, he thought, I'm getting worse. Checking the watch that didn't fit his wrist two or three times every few minutes he tried walking faster. His eyes darted toward the parking lot. He would occasionally whip his head around to discover the absence of her, which he couldn't seem to escape. His eyes creased with worry and he started breathing heavily though his pace slightly exceeded a crawl. The red was starting to bleed through his nice shirt and it stained the inside of his palms. Dammit. He would have to remember which shirt this was so he could purchase a similar one next time he was out. It was one of his favorites.

Staggering unwittingly Christian shook his head, furiously trying to fight the daze. The belt loosened around his arm as he fell to his knees in the damp sand. He unwillingly looked down to the area his ruined T-shirt had been covering. It was too dark for him to see the red, but he could feel the heat of what was once inside of him as it raced down his arm, wrapping like scarlet vines as it was lost. The artery wasn't severed but he was loosing blood just as quickly as if it had been. Thinking was becoming harder now. It wouldn't be long, the sleep would try and take him. He shuddered but began to feel more and more relaxed as the rain washed the dirt from his eyes. He blinked and as the tears mixed with the dirt and the rain he regained his sight. Keep blinking, he thought. Don't stop, can't stop blinking. Blink, blink, blink. As he thought the words he saw her eyes, couldn't keep her away for long.

It was the night they had met. Her red cheeks were so warm underlining those deep curious eyes. Christian had just wanted to get a closer, look nothing more. Just to feel that warmth on his fingertips for a moment. The draw he felt to those eyes had assured him. It had pulled him to her side and spoken the words for him. It put it's hand in hers and danced with her when he alone could not. Blink...blink god dammit! You have to stay awake! You have to keep your eyes open! Come on now blink! The pouring rain subsided and the air grew still. On that quiet beach he leaned forward on his knees, his head bobbed in exhaustion. He couldn't look at the black sky any longer. Nothing followed but waiting. His thoughts began to die. He felt them all leaving, one by one. As he drifted his breaths became more shallow, heartbeats more infrequent. As his once pulsing chest slowed to a nudging reminder of mortality he felt the flow along his arm decrease. His reasoning became more irrational. The blood won't leave as quickly now, now that my heart is slowing. Maybe I can stop the blood completely, his eyes drooped and he could feel his shoulder hit the sand with a dead thud. He tried curling his body up but couldn't find the strength for even that. Christian lie there helplessly as the numbness came. He couldn't believe how much he wanted it to take him. How ready he was for it to be over.

Surrounded by the fog, his brain took him back to the accident. He was so in shock from the pain and the loss of blood he hadn't even thought about what had happened moments earlier. All he could remember was driving along that sleek road up the hill behind him too fast, trying to get away. After he'd found out, it was all he could do not to go into the basement, place the revolver in his mouth and end it there. It took all of his control to fight through the agony and avoid the knife placed casually on the kitchen table. He put all the energy he had left into hitting the gas and getting out. The roads were slick, I wasn't anywhere near the speed limit. I must've just lost control. He reasoned with himself not wanting to fight. They would all think he did it. No one would believe it was an accident, not after seeing the look in his eyes before he had gone. He was a lucky b*stard that no one else was on the road at this hour, that was all he'd need, hurt someone else in the process.

Seconds had gone by, he was co close now. The pain would be gone, it would all be gone. He couldn't want it any more, though knew if he wasn't so weak and defeated he could fight it. He could fight the world, for her. He'd take it all over again and again if he could just see those eyes one last time. As more than just a petrified memory of happiness that he would lose forever in the next moment. Will I forget her when I leave? The terror inside him couldn't match the anger he felt at the thought. The thought of not being able to remember, to recall what he'd had, what he'd lost. I can never forget! I can't lose it! I won't lose her dammit not now! He screamed in fury within the walls of his own mind. He was trapped now because he'd stopped blinking. He could feel the fingers creep up inside and reach for what was his. He tried recalling the sound of her laugh, it was gone. The shape of her face, the smell of her skin, her name; all gone. The only thing he could see now were those eyes. He wouldn't lose them. He'd be damned to an unseeing hell if death took that from him; the one thing he had left.

Christian began to fight again, he screamed as he pounded his fists against the suffocating void. He couldn't give up. But soon his screams became groans, his pounding turned to groping. The exhaustion engulfed his will. He stopped, he faded. He couldn't remember why he was in so much pain, all he could feel was it slipping from him. He had been trying to escape something, hadn't he? Trying to run from someone. No, he'd been running to someone. He remembered the eyes once more and he could see them. Squinting they seemed miles away, but he could feel them touch his skin. They were hers. He felt the tears run down his pale, numb skin as they grew smaller and smaller before disappearing completely. He would let go and she would be there. She would be there waiting for him, and he would see those eyes again.

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