The 100 short stories

The Last Time

Based entirely off this prompt: Person B (Clarke) knows they're undoubtedly about to die within the next few seconds, likely from the gaping wound they're bleeding out from. Instead of calling for help, they phone Person A (Bellamy) and carry on a casual conversation as if nothing is wrong, making sure to mention how much they love them before their time runs out.

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The mugger had gotten away. He had my bag, my wallet, everything except my phone that I kept in my pocket. I had been stupid to believe fighting him off would be smart. I wasn't stronger than him, I wasn't stronger than someone with a knife. I didn't think he would use it, of course that was before he pushed the weapon inside my stomach and twisted it for good measure.

My hands were shaking as I felt the blood spilling on my shirt. I looked down at the blue fabric. It was soaked with blood, I only had a few minutes left. I was going to lose too much blood, I wasn't going to survive this. I looked down the alley and then the other end. There was no one there to help me. I couldn't find my voice to call for help. I was all alone, there was nothing I could do.

My eyes filled with tears as I saw the alleyway start to spin. I coughed, my chest hurt. I squeezed my eyes shut, there was no time to get help. They wouldn't make it here in time. I wouldn't leave without hearing his voice one last time. I wouldn't let him lose me without telling him one last time just how much I loved him.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and clicked on his name. The dial tone was long, "Clarke."

I smiled at his voice. My best friend, the one person I had hated more than anyone else in the world had turned into the one person I loved the most. I coughed again, "Bell," my voice was soft, I could feel the effects of blood loss getting to me.

I shouldn't have fought off my feelings. We hadn't even gotten to be together for a year and now I was losing everything. I fought down the hysteria that was gathering in my throat. I took in a deep breath, as well as I could without giving away my situation. I wouldn't let him know what was happening. I wouldn't take him away from his sister.

"Is something wrong?" he sounded worried.

He was helping Octavia with the new baby. He had been worried about leaving me by myself, he hated that I walked home at night. He told me countless times that I was going to get hurt. I didn't listen, I still took the shortcut through the alley. I still had my big black school bag on my shoulder.

I winced, sitting down, "I'm fine," I heard the pain in my own voice, knowing he would hear it as well, "I just missed you."
I could hear his smile, "I miss you too, Clarke. You should see Octavia's mini me. She's so cute. I can't wait for you to meet her. I wish you would've come with me."

I wish I would've went with him too. I wouldn't be here in the alleyway with a gaping wound in my chest. I felt a tear on my cheek as I heard the sirens in the distance, "did she decide on a name yet?"

"Ella. She looks like a little princess," he sounded so in love with his niece it hurt my heart to know this would be our last conversation. I closed my eyes, thinking about his face. I loved tracing the lines of his freckles, I loved watching his smile appear as I did it. I loved him, it had taken me too long to realize how much I loved him.

Another tear fell down my cheek, "I love you," I felt the need to say it out loud.

"I love you too," he sounded worried again. The happiness from the baby talk was fading. He let out a slow breath, "Clarke you're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong. I can come home earlier if you need me to."

I shook my head, "no I'm fine. I'm fine. I just really needed to hear your voice. School was hard today. You make it easier to handle."

There was a pause, I heard him say something to someone that wasn't near the phone, "Bell," he focused back on me, "tell me that story. The one about our future."