I don´t own them.
It was just an idea I had when I should have been studying. It´s sad, but I was in the mood. remember english´s not my mother language ...
Lit.
I don´t know what to think about it, but i wrote it in about half an hour .Enjoy.
Summary: Set at the beginning of season 5, Rory is going to New York to see Jess. She realized she made a mistake in turning him down, but when she got to his apartment she freaked out and turned around.
People were running around, screaming, yelling at each other, short they were doing nothing to help the situation. Wail of sirens were heard, getting louder the closer they came. It was nothing new to the people of New York, after all, it was New York we´re talking about. You would think they were used to it by now, but no, they were freaking out. The traffic was stuck, you could make out so many curse words in even more languages. Some of the people yelling didn´t even know what had happened, they were just yelling to be one of the crowd. If you took a closer look, you would see a person lying on the street, not moving. If it wouldn´t be for the fact that this said person was lying on the streets of New York you could have mistaken her for someone sleeping. Yes, her. It was a woman, in her early twentys, maybe a bit younger. She had chestnut brown hair that were slightly covering her face. She was a beautiful young woman, and although her eyes were shut, you knew her eyes would underline her beauty. It was getting harder and harder to be able to keep watching her because of the crowd that gathered around her. Suddenly the people were pushed out of the way. A young man, having a messenger´s back wrapped around his slim body made his way over to her. He kneeled down and softly brushed a strand of hair out of her face. The people around him gasped when a big bruise was revealed. The young man grabbed the woman´s wrist trying to find her pulse, then he went to her throat, shaking his head frantically, apparently not finding one there either. He moved carefully but determined when he leaned down and pressed his ear against her thorax. No signs of breathing, no signs of a beating heart. He gently placed his hands on her chest and started the CPR. It seemed as if he knew what he was doing. Between two pushes on her torso you could hear him yell.
" an ambulance, where the fuck in the fucking ambulance?" he looked around frantically never stopping his actions. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, ….. You could see him counting silently, then he would lean down, press his mouth to hers, as if he wanted to kiss her and slowly tried to fill her lungs with air. Once, twice… back to his attempts to get her heart to beating again. Suddenly there were paramedics everywhere, now it was his time to be pushed out of the way. The words of the paramedics could not be heard, because the people around them started talking fast. What , how, when, why ? Everyone knew another detail on the how, the when and the what, but no one could answer the question of the why.
The world seemed to stop when the paramedics began gathering their things, shaking their heads no.
The young man who had been watching the whole scene, slowly made his way over to her, sitting down next to her, wrapping her lifeless body in his arms. He wouldn´t cry. He would just sit there, staring at her face, placing the strand of hair he had brushed away earlier back over the bruise.
" young man, we need you to leave. You´re blocking the way." he looked up at the paramedics, shaking his head.
Then his hand travelled down her body, interlacing their fingers. He stiffed, took a closer look at her hand and saw a tiny piece of paper being clutched in her small hand. He hesitated, looking around, finally having the courage to take it out of her hand. He scanned the paper, apparently reading it.
He didn´t want to leave, but he had to when the paramedics pushed him out of the way roughly.
He went away, stepping into the entrance of the apartment the woman had run from earlier. He didn´t notice the paper slipping out of his pocket, he didn´t notice how the wind caught it, turning it around, making the words visible. Five words were scribbled down, not neatly, but as if they were written in a hurry.
Five words, which meant nothing anymore.
"It should have been you".