"A tragedy is a representation of an action that is whole and complete and of a certain magnitude. A whole is what has a beginning and middle and end". - Aristotle
"Nikki!"
Kneeling next to her body, he pulled her shoulders into his arms, as the pain of losing his best friend ensued inside of him. "Nikki, its Harry…stay with me". He cradled her body in his arms, not ready to let his colleague go.
He couldn't bring himself to look at the injuries which were causing Nikki's silent agony. All he knew is that they had proved fatal. His eyes fixed on hers, both brimming with pain and tears. He watched her try to speak but hushed her words, trying to savour every last moment he had with her. Their eyes shared every word that their hearts yearned to say but still Harry whispered "Please Nikki, don't leave me…I need you." He held her closer, hoping that the beat of his heart would somehow rekindle hers. But it was too late.
"Harry?"
His heart jumped a little in his chest. Not again. Harry suddenly felt the warmth of the bed clothes around him, as he sank deeper into his bed. Since Hungary, Harry was grateful that he hadn't been reminded with flashbacks of his ordeal; but instead his nightmares were shrouded with the despair of his companion. Waking up, dreaming of Nikki's slim frame cradled in his arms, her life slipping away. The scenario was always slightly different, but always came to the same conclusion. One that Harry never wanted to experience in reality.