Standing in front of Stan as a sort of shield, Kyle glared at the guy who stood a few feet away from the two boys with the gun he held being aimed directly at Kyle's chest.
"If you're going to shoot someone, then shoot me," he said.
"What are you doing?" the darker haired brunette boy asked just as the guy fired the gun.
The next thing he knew, his friend was slumped against him while a slow spread of red made its way across the front of his orange jacket. He knelt down with this friend still slumped against him. Placing his wounded friend on the ground, he looked at his friend as he removed his jacket and his white under shirt before he tore his white undershirt into strips in an attempt to stem the flow of red that was steadily and slowly widening. Their gazes met.
"Why did you do that? It was pretty stupid of you," he said.
Kyle managed to smile despite the waves of pain that were constantly coursing throughout his entire body.
"Isn't that what friends are supposed to do for each other?" he asked before lapsing into a coughing fit.
During his friend's brief coughing fit, the darker brunette boy glanced down at the strips of his white t-shirt and noticed that they were completely drenched with his friend's blood.
"Stay with me. The ambulance will be here soon."
"Don't lie to me. The ambulance won't get here in time," the dying redhead weakly replied.
Stan felt his temper slowly rising.
"Don't you dare leave me!" he snapped.
"I don't want to. But I don't have much of a choice here."
Overcome by a second coughing fit, the redhead stopped talking while a small trickle of blood ran down from the corner of his mouth.
"I-I'm so cold," he managed to say before his eyes glazed over and his body went still.
He shook his friend but there was no reponse. Stan lay across the now lifeless body of his friend and cried long and hard, ignoring the guy with the gun who still stood behind him who had reloaded the gun and aimed the gun at him. Gently closing his now deceased friend's eyes, the dark brunette rose and slowly faced the man.
"You just killed my best friend. Go ahead! Kill me too! At least I'll see him again. Pull the trigger and shoot me. Please."
The guy slowly lowered the gun he held, seeing both sorrow and anger reflected in Stan's eyes before his gaze went to the body of the boy he'd just shot and killed still laying on the ground where Stan had placed him.
"I-I can't, kid. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so sorry," the man said as he dropped the gun on the ground before he turned and ran off. Stan watched as the gun hit the ground, heard a bang as it went off and winced at the sudden, sharp pain that washed through his stomach area as the bullet entered his body. His bare hands instantly went over the wound on his stomach and when he pulled them away, saw that they were tainted red. He fell to his knees before he pitched forward. He lay there on his stomach while the blood streamed out from beneath him, slowly creeping into the cracks of the sidewalk. He started losing consciousness and as he did, thought he saw his friend approaching him.
'So, this is what it's like to die,' he thought as his friend got closer.
By the time his friend stood directly opposite him, the dark brunette felt strength returning to his body and he managed to get to his feet. As he approached his friend, he saw Kyle motioning for him to stop. Frowning, he continued to approach his friend until both boys stood only a foot or two away from each other.