Lammastide
By Wilwarin Breila
A/N: THE COMMENT IN THE SECOND PARAGRAPH IS TRUE. IN A LIFE-OR-DEATH SITUATION, YOU NEVER SEE YOUR LIFE FLASHING BEFORE YOU. ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS STAYING ALIVE, STAYING ABOVE WATER, NOT DROWNING, NOT LETTING YOUR CLOTHING DRAG YOU UNDER, AND NOT LETTING THE COLDNESS TAKE OVER…
I sink down to the ground, Maria's hands cool against my hot flesh. Beyond her, I can see the Jets- Anybodys, Diesel, Ice, Action- and the Sharks standing, separated. Separated, but together.
Remember how they always tell you that being in a life-or-death situation always contains a part where your entire life flashes before you? It doesn't happen that way. Nothing ever happens the way they tell you.
"We will go away," Maria tells me, clutching my hand in hers. So warm. So soft. "We will go to a place where they will never find us."
I nod, trying hard to ignore the searing pain in my back. They say that type of pain, especially from a bullet wound, like what I have, takes effect almost instantly. For me, it was just beginning.
Everything dims, then goes black. I can hear Maria saying, "How many bullets are left, Chino? Enough for you?" I can hear the sound of sneakers and tennis shoes on pavement. "And you?" Again there is the scurrying of shoes on pavement. Is Maria trying to tell them that hate is what killed us? "All of you! How many can I kill, Chino, and still have one left for myself?"
I'm coming, Riff. 'Nardo, I'm sorry, but I loved your sister from the beginning, last night.
"…Because now I have hate!" Maria shouts.
Car doors slam. I can only imagine that it is Detective Shrank and Officer Krumpke. Was it only last night that I met Maria? Everything seems so distant…
Riff's face swims before me. "Maybe you'll find what you're looking for at the dance tonight!"
I can remember the rumble under the highway tonight, only a few hours past, and Bernardo's taunting face leers in my own. "Hey! He is a gallito!"
"Nardo, no! Please, you don't understand…"
I can remember the sting of his hand as he backhands it across my face.
I can remember the tightness of the grips my friends have on me as we watch Riff and 'Nardo fight it out.
I can remember 'Nardo's face as the blade is thrust into his flesh.
And I can remember the terror I feel at the sight of my best friend dying, and at the sight of Maria's brother after I stab him.
"Maria?" I try to whisper.
But she doesn't answer, for I am no longer there.
