So this is what death is like she thought to herself; the gentle flow of life ebbing away. She'd known for a while that this was how she would go eventually; she'd known she wouldn't grow old, wouldn't have the kind of life that most women do. She took a deep breath then quickly regretted it as the sharp pain threatened to send her consciousness into oblivion. She didn't want to lose consciousness yet, she wanted to go when she was ready and that wasn't yet.
She'd heard somewhere that if you confess your sins before death then you were more likely to go to heaven. Not that she thought she believed in god and heaven; but she wanted to do everything she could to make sure she went to as good a place as possible. She'd done bad things in her life, she'd killed people, she'd lied (although not very well) and she'd generally been rude and obnoxious to mostly everyone she met. She couldn't think of every single wrong that she'd done, she didn't really think it necessary to confess every detail; at least she hoped it wasn't.
She lay in the middle of the field, could feel the warm stickiness of her own blood pooling beneath her. She could hear the sound of sirens in the distance and she knew they were coming for her but that they would be too late. She knew no-one could save her now.
A thought suddenly occurred to her; it probably wasn't enough just to confess your sins, you probably had to be sorry for them as well. Uh-oh, this is where she'd get in trouble. Some things she was sorry for, things like upsetting people unnecessarily – she'd done that a lot. But she wasn't sorry for the killing and the lying; they had been necessary. Oh well, there goes heaven; at least she'd heard it was warm in hell and she'd always been someone who felt the cold.
She heard the hum of the helicopter blades, felt the turbulence from its closeness rippling through the grass surrounding her. The cavalry was here, oh well – too late cavalry, she thought to herself with a small smile. She heard voices shouting, the pounding of running feet as the helicopter landed.
She felt someone beside her, falling to their knees and touching her body with urgency as though willing her to be alive. She felt warm hands on her cold face and she struggled to open her eyes, struggled to focus. She heard a familiar voice urging her to be ok, asking her to stay with him, telling her she couldn't go, that she couldn't die.
How was she supposed to die now? When the one reason to keep going in her life was holding her? But she knew her body was failing her. Her mind was strong, her heart stronger; but her body was weak. She couldn't fight the pain anymore, but she wanted to; oh god, how she wanted to. She looked at him through the mist that was clouding her vision, blinked a couple of times to get him in focus.
Ah, there he was. The man made of steel on the outside but with the heart of a lion on the inside. His one visible weakness that she could see was his face; a face that could translate hundreds of tiny emotions; a face that communicated a sweetness that only few could really see. And she was one of the few; had seen it almost straight away. He was haunted by ghosts and she didn't want to be one of those ghosts. But she had no choice now.
Her breath was rasping, an icy chill was creeping up her body and she knew it was nearly time. She looked into his eyes and saw pain and betrayal, pain that she was going and betrayal that she was not taking him with her. But she couldn't; it wasn't his time yet, it would be soon but not just yet.
She smiled at him, at least she attempted to – knowing her luck it probably came out as one of her infamous grimaces. She reached up to gently stroke his face; he grasped her hand and held it to him. She tried to speak but couldn't make herself heard. He leant close to her, his ear next to her lips. She tried again to speak, to say the words she'd been too scared to say before now. It took a couple of attempts and eventually those three words were said; too late to take back, but now she had no reason to want to take them back. She didn't need to protect him from them anymore, she felt relieved that he knew.
His face was so close to her now, she saw a glimmer of a sad smile as he told her he knew; that it was ok, that he had never had a better woman love him. She felt his lips gently touch hers, could taste the essence of him as she was drifting away. As kisses went, it was both sad and sweet, full of promise that never would be delivered.
As she closed her eyes again she could still feel his warm breath against her lips, his tears trailing down both of their faces. In her mind she was saying goodbye, saying a thousand other things she couldn't say in life; she hoped he heard them as her breath stilled and her life ebbed away.