I don't own the Hardys

"I was just coming back from lunch when the shootings started. Some of my friends were coming from the school, screaming and crying. I started crying, I was terrified." Jaimie Roark, a student at Columbine

Joe

I was dead. I was dead. So why did it hurt so much?

Nothing was real anymore. After I got shot, nothing made sense. I had an impression of more gunshots, of yelling…shouts. Then a door banged open and people were running.

Not me.

I was dead. I knew it, and I welcomed it. Death would be preferable to this pain. My insides were on fire, and a hot stickiness surrounded my entire body. I just hoped Frank would understand why I had to die…

Frank. My brother would kill me if I died. Desperately, I tried to hang onto the last bits of consciousness. They were slipping away fast, and I felt myself falling. I struggled to keep my eyes open, my thoughts only on Frank. He would die if I did. It was an unspoken rule that had been in place the first time one of us got shot. The other would die.

Frank couldn't die yet.

By living, I would ensure that Frank lived too, and that was enough reason for me.

But at that point, reason had nothing to do with it. My eyes fluttered once…twice…as I struggled to stay awake. Distantly, I heard the screams that told me more people were hurt. More people were dying. Like me.

God, Frank, I'm sorry. So sorry. I know I'm supposed to be the strong one, the brawn to your brain, but it's too painful. I can't fight it. Make it stop!

"Joe?"

Now I was imagining things. Of course I'd conjure up a Frank to stay with me for my last moments. I tried to open my mouth, to tell this non-Frank something important. Only blood poured out.

"Joe, stay with me!" Something landed on my cheek, and I tried to force my hands to move to make it go away. It was a tear. Frank was crying. I wanted to ask him what was wrong. What if he was hurt? The thought was more than I could bear. But when I opened my mouth, more blood poured out. In a second I was choking on it.

Suddenly, I was in Frank's arms. It was only when I felt them that I realized I was shivering. I was so cold…so cold. "Don't die on me, Joe!" He sounded so scared. I wanted to tell him not to be scared. I wasn't scared of death anymore.

"Please, Joe!" He had started running, but I didn't realize it. I wondered vaguely when my brother had gotten so strong. I was pretty heavy. Why was he crying? Was he hurt?

We weren't in the school anymore. There was still screams coming from the building, and outside it was strangely quiet. Frank laid me down on the ground, though his hand was still clutching mine. Maybe he'd let me die now.

Forcing myself to concentrate on Frank, I noticed that his shirt was bloody. No…no! Frank couldn't have been shot. I started shaking even harder, half from the pain in my side, half from the pain of knowing that Frank had been hurt trying to save me. He couldn't save me anyway.

Then Frank was on top of me, his body keeping mine down. "C'mon, Little Buddy, don't do this!" He was still crying. It's weird. I've only seen Frank cry two or three times. He doesn't usually get emotional.

His side must really be killing him. He needed to see a doctor. Now.

I finally got my mouth working. More blood came out, but I forced out words anyway. "'Kay, Frank?"

He started shaking even harder. From far away, I heard sirens. Again, I wondered what had happened. Using his sleeve, he cleaned the blood from my mouth. "I'm fine, Joey. Just stay with me, okay?"

I turned my head to the side. I'd talk to Frank in the morning. And why was I so cold? "Too tired, Frank."

"No!" Something in his voice made me look back at him, irritated. It wasn't my fault I was tired, anyway. My side hurt, and Frank was on top of me and I was cold. And everyone was being so loud.

But Frank looked scared. Serious scared. It was kind of funny, and I wanted to laugh, except that my chest hurt. Why was Frank bleeding? Maybe he should go to the doctor.

There were a lot of people around now, and they weren't paying attention to us, which was okay with me. I just wanted to go to sleep. I tried to make my hands move to get Frank off of me, but nothing wanted to work.

"Please, Joe!" What a crybaby. I just wanted to go to sleep. But there was something I had to tell him first. Because he was my big brother and seemed so scared.

"I love you, Frank." I whispered, coughing up a little blood. Then everything went black.

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