1 Chapter 8
Beka closes her eyes and shakes her head. The once blond hair is now red, as she looks at her reflection in a window. Her normal hair color seemed more fitting for her at that moment. She admires herself for a while then walks up the street to the corner. To her left, a large park with trees, and a small lake in the middle, is bordered by a three-foot high wall, which is decorated. To her right are a bunch of buildings, and allies that lead to the back. Beka spies a man off to the side, just staring at her. He doesn't look dangerous, in that he doesn't seem to look 'dirty' or like a normal thug would/should look like. She shakes it off and keeps on walking. The man begins to follow her. She begins to quicken her pace, but the man does also, catching up to her. She turns suddenly and draws her weapon out on the man, aiming it at his head. The man stops and smiles.
"You know, I'm not the one with a gun pointed at my head, so if I were you, I'd stop smiling," she says.
The man laughs, "You won't shoot me…"
"Really? And why not?"
The man swiftly knocks the gun out of her hands, taking it, and he grabs her body, bringing it close to his.
"Because you don't have a gun," he says. "Now, you're gonna come with me…"
"Think again."
Beka slams on his foot and he drops the gun of to the side. When he looses his grip on her hands, she punches him in his face. The man, taken off guard, is beaten up a little at first, but quickly regains his composure and fights back, hard. They eventually fight themselves into an old alleyway, getting further and further away from the main street. He grabs her foot when she ties to kick him in the head again, and flips her on her back. Beka sees her gun and goes for it. He notices her going for it and gets the gun before she does and turns it on Beka. Beka, who is totally taken by surprise, decides to go with her instincts and fight the man anyway. She ducks the first shot, and plows him to the ground. The man, however, is too strong for her and ultimately defeats her, holding both of her arms over her head, straddling her waist.
The man kisses her hard on the lips and says, "You're a feisty one, aren't you? Well, that's okay, those are best kind anyway."
"You're sick," she retorts.
The man ignores that comment and takes out a knife to cut off her clothing. Beka yells out for help, but it's useless. They're too far into the alley for anybody to hear anything, even if there were people out to begin with—it was noon and everyone was indoors. Just as the man is about the cut off her shirt, Chris runs at him hard, knocking him over and dropping his knife. They wrestle with each other for a minute, both of them taking a few hard hits. They seem to be making their way out of the alley and back onto the street. Beka finds her gun, but the two men are moving around too much for her to get a clean shot. Then, the man hits Chris in the stomach and he falls back into the street, holding his stomach with pain in his eyes.
A person driving a vehicle sees Chris in front of him and slams on the brakes. Chris sees the vehicle, but it's too late. The vehicle hits Chris and he is thrown up on it, cracking the windshield, and rolls off like a dummy to the side.
Beka sees everything and comes running towards Chris, dropping her gun on the way. She kneels next to him. A huge gash claims his forehead and Beka presses her hand on the wound to try and stop the bleeding. Christopher swallows and breathes hard, but short. He doesn't feel any pain, only numbness in his legs and body. His eyes can barely stay open, but they do none-the-less.
"Christopher…" she says. "Don't die on me now. C'mon, pull it together."
His body shakes, yet with all the trembling and pain he manages some words:
"I—I love you, Rebecca."
Beka begins to cry uncontrollably and she holds his hand.
"Don't say that," she says—Beka knew he was saying that because he was dying. She figures if he doesn't say things like that, then he won't die.
"I'm cold," he says.
Moments pass by of soft quivering and sadness. All Beka can do is hold Chris. And then, the hand that was once holding on so strong lets go and becomes limp and the quivering body expires. His brilliant blue eyes grow pale and gray, and his chest ceases from rising and stays fallen. The only moving thing on the body is a tear, which rolls down his face, into his ear.
Harper looks on at the two dead bodies that lay before him. One of Chris, and the other of the man that was going to take Beka. He had shot the man when he punched Chris in the stomach. Harper's eyes are sad and angry, and the people who come out of the buildings and walk by start to stop and stare at the scene. The driver, who hit Chris, already called for help and the noise of the help arriving can be heard in the far background. Beka continues to cry, still trembling, still holding his hand. He was dead. Life didn't matter as much anymore. After experiencing such a love, everything else seems dull and boring. There is nothing to live for, nothing to die for. Worlds become flat, and adventure becomes bland. Someone could come and slit your throat with a dull knife and you wouldn't feel it. The eyes become heavy and lazy, and sounds from the outside are replaced by the rhythmic thumping of the heart.
Beka removes her bloody hand from his wound and lets go of his hand. Harper comes up behind her and kneels down next to her. When she leans back, he holds her and quiets her, until the people arrive to come and take his body away.
The sun shines out of a patch of clouds and down onto the scene, as if a sign that everything will be fine. People huddle and the crowd grows bigger. Many of them have never seen such a thing, or maybe haven't seen it in a very long time. For those people, all the memories come flooding back and they cry. Not too much, just a tear or two, then they watch as the bodies are covered and taken away. They watch the woman cry and the driver feeling guilty. They see themselves unable to do anything and are so caught up in a whirlwind of shock and humility, that they turn away and head home before the sadness renders them completely helpless and dumbfounded. And as they turn away, they don't look back, they don't look up, and they don't look to the side. They just walk on and hope that things will turn out okay with the poor woman.
Beka closes her eyes and shakes her head. The once blond hair is now red, as she looks at her reflection in a window. Her normal hair color seemed more fitting for her at that moment. She admires herself for a while then walks up the street to the corner. To her left, a large park with trees, and a small lake in the middle, is bordered by a three-foot high wall, which is decorated. To her right are a bunch of buildings, and allies that lead to the back. Beka spies a man off to the side, just staring at her. He doesn't look dangerous, in that he doesn't seem to look 'dirty' or like a normal thug would/should look like. She shakes it off and keeps on walking. The man begins to follow her. She begins to quicken her pace, but the man does also, catching up to her. She turns suddenly and draws her weapon out on the man, aiming it at his head. The man stops and smiles.
"You know, I'm not the one with a gun pointed at my head, so if I were you, I'd stop smiling," she says.
The man laughs, "You won't shoot me…"
"Really? And why not?"
The man swiftly knocks the gun out of her hands, taking it, and he grabs her body, bringing it close to his.
"Because you don't have a gun," he says. "Now, you're gonna come with me…"
"Think again."
Beka slams on his foot and he drops the gun of to the side. When he looses his grip on her hands, she punches him in his face. The man, taken off guard, is beaten up a little at first, but quickly regains his composure and fights back, hard. They eventually fight themselves into an old alleyway, getting further and further away from the main street. He grabs her foot when she ties to kick him in the head again, and flips her on her back. Beka sees her gun and goes for it. He notices her going for it and gets the gun before she does and turns it on Beka. Beka, who is totally taken by surprise, decides to go with her instincts and fight the man anyway. She ducks the first shot, and plows him to the ground. The man, however, is too strong for her and ultimately defeats her, holding both of her arms over her head, straddling her waist.
The man kisses her hard on the lips and says, "You're a feisty one, aren't you? Well, that's okay, those are best kind anyway."
"You're sick," she retorts.
The man ignores that comment and takes out a knife to cut off her clothing. Beka yells out for help, but it's useless. They're too far into the alley for anybody to hear anything, even if there were people out to begin with—it was noon and everyone was indoors. Just as the man is about the cut off her shirt, Chris runs at him hard, knocking him over and dropping his knife. They wrestle with each other for a minute, both of them taking a few hard hits. They seem to be making their way out of the alley and back onto the street. Beka finds her gun, but the two men are moving around too much for her to get a clean shot. Then, the man hits Chris in the stomach and he falls back into the street, holding his stomach with pain in his eyes.
A person driving a vehicle sees Chris in front of him and slams on the brakes. Chris sees the vehicle, but it's too late. The vehicle hits Chris and he is thrown up on it, cracking the windshield, and rolls off like a dummy to the side.
Beka sees everything and comes running towards Chris, dropping her gun on the way. She kneels next to him. A huge gash claims his forehead and Beka presses her hand on the wound to try and stop the bleeding. Christopher swallows and breathes hard, but short. He doesn't feel any pain, only numbness in his legs and body. His eyes can barely stay open, but they do none-the-less.
"Christopher…" she says. "Don't die on me now. C'mon, pull it together."
His body shakes, yet with all the trembling and pain he manages some words:
"I—I love you, Rebecca."
Beka begins to cry uncontrollably and she holds his hand.
"Don't say that," she says—Beka knew he was saying that because he was dying. She figures if he doesn't say things like that, then he won't die.
"I'm cold," he says.
Moments pass by of soft quivering and sadness. All Beka can do is hold Chris. And then, the hand that was once holding on so strong lets go and becomes limp and the quivering body expires. His brilliant blue eyes grow pale and gray, and his chest ceases from rising and stays fallen. The only moving thing on the body is a tear, which rolls down his face, into his ear.
Harper looks on at the two dead bodies that lay before him. One of Chris, and the other of the man that was going to take Beka. He had shot the man when he punched Chris in the stomach. Harper's eyes are sad and angry, and the people who come out of the buildings and walk by start to stop and stare at the scene. The driver, who hit Chris, already called for help and the noise of the help arriving can be heard in the far background. Beka continues to cry, still trembling, still holding his hand. He was dead. Life didn't matter as much anymore. After experiencing such a love, everything else seems dull and boring. There is nothing to live for, nothing to die for. Worlds become flat, and adventure becomes bland. Someone could come and slit your throat with a dull knife and you wouldn't feel it. The eyes become heavy and lazy, and sounds from the outside are replaced by the rhythmic thumping of the heart.
Beka removes her bloody hand from his wound and lets go of his hand. Harper comes up behind her and kneels down next to her. When she leans back, he holds her and quiets her, until the people arrive to come and take his body away.
The sun shines out of a patch of clouds and down onto the scene, as if a sign that everything will be fine. People huddle and the crowd grows bigger. Many of them have never seen such a thing, or maybe haven't seen it in a very long time. For those people, all the memories come flooding back and they cry. Not too much, just a tear or two, then they watch as the bodies are covered and taken away. They watch the woman cry and the driver feeling guilty. They see themselves unable to do anything and are so caught up in a whirlwind of shock and humility, that they turn away and head home before the sadness renders them completely helpless and dumbfounded. And as they turn away, they don't look back, they don't look up, and they don't look to the side. They just walk on and hope that things will turn out okay with the poor woman.