(Don't) Leave Me Alone •twenty one pilots-Tyler Joseph•

forty seven//you're a miracle

||Charlotte Robin Dun|| First Person||

A burning sensation spreads from the small, dime sized hole in my gushing chest and all over my body, leaving me feeling like I'm on fire. It's getting increasingly difficult for me to hang on to my consciousness while attempting to breathe, my mouth parting enough for me to let out giant heaves for breath. I gasp for air as I lean against that brick wall, wondering how the hell Ryan hung on for so long in such a tantalizing state of death. The cold wind blowing all around us is of very little relief to the heat that's flushing my skin hot, and all I want is to get my stupid jacket off. I would yank the constricting article of clothing off it wasn't for the fact that every single movement of my body sends a sharp shock of pain through my chest.
The pain is something almost indescribable, a pain that brings searing heat rushing through my limbs. The pain spreads from where the bullet lodged into my chest up into my shoulders and neck and down my arms to the tips of my fingers. As I clasp my hand over my bleeding wound while wincing, I realize that chances are, I won't make it.

I'm going to die on my twentieth birthday after all.

The men flee like they did before, not bothering to finish the job because it's the middle of the day, not two in the morning like last time. I could here shouting from the sidewalks after the sound of a gunshot went off, people inquiring about what happened from just outside the alley. Through heavy eyes and blurry vision, I watch their backs turn to us as they sprint off down the alleyway, running for their lives when they realize that people would be here in a matter of seconds. As the pain intensifies, all I can think about is how glad I am that I saved Tyler's life, unlike last time. I close my eyes for a moment, the short few seconds feeling like an eternity has passed as my eyes open up again.

"Crap, crap, crap--" Tyler stumbles over his words as he hurriedly works on the stuck zipper of his coat. He tugs on the tough piece of metal, unzipping his jacket before stripping it off in quick and fluid movements. He looks at me in panic as he works on folding the thick fabric before he shoves it against my bleeding chest, holding it there with so much pressure. I gasp in an attempt to breathe in some of the sharp and crisp December air that's becoming increasingly difficult to inhale. I lean my head back on the brick wall, staring up at the cloudy sky above me through blurred vision as the snowflakes fall gently from the sky. Tyler's moving even faster now as he holds the fabric to my wound with one hand while simultaneously working on his cell phone's keypad, dialing 911 in an attempt to save the life that's already over. Moments go by with him waiting for the line to answer him, and when it does, his words are spewing out at top speed. "I need help, please!" He wails. "Please, my girlfriend just got shot." I shut my eyes closed tightly, not even having the energy to get excited about him still considering me his girlfriend after all that I've put him through. I gasp for air, laboured intakes of oxygen barely reaching my lungs enough to satisfy me. "Yes, yes, please," he pleads as he confirms the address we're at. By the time he's hanging up, a couple is jogging towards us, kneeling down next to me and Tyler.

"What happened?" One of them asks quizzically, eyes wide with panic.

"Some- some g-guys shot her," Tyler stutters, wiping his eyes quickly before he's finally moving from his position in front of me to next to me, pulling me back gently to meet his chest. He wraps his arms around my waist and presses his jacket compactly to my bullet wound, breathing in quick gasps that leave a ghost of a tickle on the burning skin of my neck. I lean into his body, tilting my head up so my face could press against his warm neck. I'm dying, I think, and all I want is to be closer than possible to Tyler Robert Joseph. I close my eyes tightly and do my best to breathe for him, gasping and panting vigorously just to get a few breaths into my lungs. "Hey, Robin, sweetie, hang in there." He whispers in a shuddering voice, holding me to his body. "Please hold on, for me,"