I wish it were mine…
…..
Ziva lay on her side, a blanket thrown over. I have to tell them. They're going to find out anyway…
She reached under pillow and pulled out a book. No, wait. She'd grabbed her gun. That's the story of my life.
Yes, indeed, Ziva. But not just yours.
Opening the diary, she turned several pages, pausing for a moment at a photo which managed to elicit a smile. A few more pages, and she'd reached the end of her writing. Beginning a new entry, she filled in the date:
Tuesday, November 10th, 2009
I think I will tell my team tomorrow. I mean, they're practically my family. They deserve to know. They'll find out anyway, and it would be better if they found out from me, yes? I know I should have told them earlier, but I didn't. I'm not sure why. Maybe because they would have made a different choice? I may never kn- -
The sound of breaking glass abruptly jarred Ziva out of her writing reverie. Dropping the book, she jumped to her feet, charging into the living room, only to stop dead in her tracks. The barrel of a gun was only inches from her face. She gasped and took a step back, but realized that doing so wouldn't do any good.
"No! Don't-"
..
The mind is a strange creature, one able to easily overlook what could be considered blindingly obvious, yet also to notice what might seem impossible.
Three thoughts raced through Ziva's mind before everything went black:
1. It actually did hurt, a little. Pain travels faster than the speed of death. But she didn't mind the pain. She did get scared when it stopped.
2. Yes, your life actually does flash before your eyes.
3. It looked like a horror movie.
She wished she could have told her team that. It would have made them smile.
…
Author's note: Do I have your attention? More reviews=faster updates.