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"Red"
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Anna had never seen so much red before in her whole life; so much blood. A storm of chaos surged around her as paramedics and medical equipment brushed by, pouring through the door that stood between her and the horrible, horrible red. Nearby, sirens wailed, sharp against the muted murmurings of the crowd behind and around her. She heard it, she knew it was there, but she couldn't see it. She couldn't see a shaken Nick retching into a nearby garbage can. She couldn't see a group of sophomores trying to fan Sandy back to consciousness. She couldn't see the bright yellow tape gripped in her fingers, keeping the gawkers at bay so the EMT's could do their work. All she could see was the small blue door and the awful puddle of red hidden behind it.
"Clear the way!"
She flinched as the door swung open, revealing the sight for the briefest moment before it was blocked by the rattling wheels of a gurney. She heard the crowd part, but made no move of her own, rooted to her spot in shock and disbelief. "Easton…why?" Her voice was quiet, barely reaching her own ears as she watched them wheel her friend past her. He couldn't have heard her, even if he was awake. But he wasn't.
He looked asleep, but Anna knew better. She knew he was in some other blackness, seesawing on the brink and no amount of screaming would rouse him. She knew this, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try. "Easton!"
She moved then, not out of the way, but towards the gurney, latching onto the metal railing before the paramedics realized she was there. Her fingers clutched at the blanket that covered his torso, barely noting that it too was red, shielding bystanders from the horror it covered. "Easton…" Her head fell and she sank to her knees, still gripping both the blanket and the guard rail, weeping against the stilled gurney. "Please…" He looked so small, so faded, and so pale wrapped up in that hideous red fabric. There was no fight in Anna as she was gently pried away and passed into strong arms that she distantly recognized were Nick's. She barely heard the rehearsed promises that there was no need to worry; everything would be fine. All she could do was close her eyes and sob, letting blackness fall over her vision as her dearest friend was whisked to the hospital; letting it drown out the hated red.
Unnoticed, a pale figure slipped away from the shocked onlookers, moving in the direction opposite that of the ambulance. No one noticed the shredded tee shirt hanging out of the hoodie pocket. No one noticed the grim set of the thin mouth or the questioning in the shadow-circled eyes. And no one noticed as spindly fingers rubbed against dark denim, wiping away a smear of red.
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A/N: Please don't leave any reviews pointing out how often I've used the word red or suggesting synonyms for it. I am really quite competent with colors. The over-use and simple repetition of 'red' in this chapter is intentional. All other reviews are welcome and appreciated.
