Temporary A/N: I'm going to be editing this so if any of the chapters seem a bit incoherent and mention things from out of the blue it's because I haven't got around to editing that chapter yet. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy reading How To Love A Dead Boy!
THE GIRL AND THE DYING BOY
Standing by my bike with the busted tyre, my eyes flicker from the black skid marks on the wet road and back to the flames which dance and tremble in the distance. My breathing quickens with the rising rate of my heartbeat. My mind screams at me to run over to see what's just happened, but my body isn't responding.
With shaky hands, I reach into my pocket and pull out my mobile. I punch the three numbers into the dial pad. As I wait for the operator to pick up, I regain feeling in my legs. I begin to move towards the smoke and fire; the soles of my wellingtons slapping against the wet ground as I pick up speed.
"Call could not be connected. No credit available," the female robotic voice responds.
I rip the useless phone from my ear and let it drop out of my hand and onto the tar road. I hear it smash, but don't look back.
I feel the colour drain from my face when I stop at the scene. Blood is sprayed on the road, a body lies up ahead and flames overtake the crashed station wagon. Noticing the passenger door missing, I bend down to peer inside.
I'm not sure what to expect, but it won't be pretty.
My first reaction to the burning and bloody body squished in between the seat, steering wheel and roof of the upside down car is to scream.
I stumble back, fighting to keep the tears away.
It doesn't matter how much I try to forget what I've seen and look away, I just can't. My eyes are glued to the burning man, my body threatening to send my lunch back up.
In my moment of terror, I remember the other body down the road. Tearing my eyes from the driver, I run to where the second man lies. I find him on his back, surrounded by a pool of blood, his clothes torn and pieces missing from his arms and face.
A wave of relief crashes over me when I see the slight rise and fall of his chest. By some miracle, he's still alive. Standing over him, I see his lips trembling and his hands shaking at the same speed mine are.
To comfort him, I kneel and place a hand on his shoulder. At my touch, his eyelids fly open and he looks up to me with saddened and pained brown eyes.
A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek as I try to speak.
"I... do... do you have a m... mobile phone?" I ask. He looks past me to the burning car and I feel my stomach drop. I take a deep breath to try to control myself, searching my mind for another plan.
"With Dave... is... is he ok?" he asks, looking back to me with concern in his eyes. I take a deep breath; why did this have to happen to me?
"He... he's fine," I lie, "But he doesn't matter right now, we need to call you some help," I tell him, trying to sound as strong as I can. Maybe the stronger I can stay, the stronger he can, although, I can already see that he's slipping away from me.
"I need to call you an ambulance. There's a house down the road, I need to go and use their-"
"No!" he interrupts, fear in his eyes, "Please, don't leave me. I'm happy to die, just not alone." More tears are escaping now, but I can't give in to my fear. I have to be strong. I wipe my face with my sleeve.
"I... if that's what you want, I can stay," I tell him. He smiles weakly up at me and reaches for my hand. I take his bloody hand and he grasps onto mine tightly. If holding his hand is all I can do, then so be it, it's what I'll do.
"Hey... miss, what's your name?" he asks, and I'm taken a little aback.
"Uh... my, my name is Lucy," I reply. He rolls his eyes, bringing a tearful smile to my face. Dying with attitude, just the way I want to go.
"Your full name Lucy," he points out. I smile wider. Of course.
"Lucy Ainsworth," I reply.
"Lucy Ainsworth, I'll be sure that the man upstairs rewards you with something," he says, his grip on my hand loosening.
The sensation brings down my wall of strength. My smile is wiped clean and a there's a sickly feeling in my gut. The fear I've tried so hard to evade overtakes my thoughts. Oh God, don't do this to me. Don't make me hold hands with a dying person, I can't do it God, please, I don't have the strength. I'm so afraid.
"Hey, Lucy, thanks for staying," he says, his voice fading, his eyes closing, his hands no longer shaking, his bottom lip no longer trembling and his tight and bloody grip on my hand, gone.
YOU ARE READING
How To Love A Dead Boy
Paranormal[editing-slowly] Despite doing everything she can, Lucy Ainsworth can't forget the night that she held the hand of the dying stranger, Ryden Mitchells. However; when she finds herself face to face with his ghost in her bathroom mirror, she's throw...
