The Road

The End

I gazed into those eyes and prayed it would last just a few seconds longer; forever I prayed. Cradled in my arms, his face a shattered visage of red and black but his eyes two deep oceans, he watched me with an overwhelming sense of helplessness and fear. Inside I knew that he was screaming at me to help, to take his pain away, to save him from his death.

I had no such intention.

His wounds were too severe. He was drowning in his own blood, from inside and out, flooding the floor. An artist at work, creating his masterpiece of havoc in blood red. The canvas just grew bigger and bigger and I knew that saving him was a fallacy. There was nothing that I could do.

So, I sat there, on my knees in his pool of blood and I took his shaking hand, entwining our fingers and holding him strong, easing him through the convulsions. I smiled... a pathetic smile that was robbed by tears and gasps of air. I tried to stay calm. I wanted to be with him. I held him strong and he was fragile as a new-born. His head nestled into my arm. I held him strong. Around us a cacophony of screams and sirens and mayhem erupted, completely incoherent and unimportant.

"Just you and me," I whispered, holding back the urge to scream and wail at God and demand a reason why. "Just you and me," I smiled, finding some strength within me to stop the chattering of my teeth. "Look at me, just you and me. It's going to okay. It's going to be okay. Just keep looking at me." A million words could have been said but he his life was slipping through my hands. He couldn't hold on. I wanted to take him away, to a place we loved, to dive into our happiest memories, where pain had no dominion, but the words became knotted in my tongue. "It's okay Rhian. Don't try and fight this. You can go. Let yourself go. Be at peace. Rhian, please... baby it's okay. I love you. You can go. You can go."