Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
ー 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑿𝑿𝑿𝑰𝑿
JANUARY, 2017.
(every conversation is in macedonian.)
Crimson red blood seeped trough the icy white snow as the boy managed to drag her weak body out of the back seat of the car, his voice echoing troughout the spacious parking lot, screaming for help, his voice breaking with every plea for a doctor to come rushing to them.
Three of them stumbled hurridly out of the sliding doors with a stretcher, counting to three and lifting her body onto it, then wheeling her inside of the hospital. Looking trough the windows that were covered in frost from a distance, he could make out shapes of more doctors rushing in, along with a few shocked faces of the people in the waiting room.
Luka was beyond scared. Everything was moving in slow motion, all movement surrounding him was blurred. Either by the tears that were welled up in his eyes, or the fact that he was in so much shock he couldn't stand stright.
He couldn't go in there with her. As much as he wanted to. His legs dragged him over to the sliding doors as if they had a mind on their own, more so listening to his heart, desperstely needing to be with her, assure himself that she would be alright.
It's my fault, he thought. If he was more careful, smarter, maybe none of this wouldn't have happend. If he did better maybe the girl he was so deeply in love with wouldn't have bled out in his arms.
His head dropped down to look at the ground, his hands coming in sight. His fingers were coated in the blood that once flowed thick and scarlet in her body.
His veins were yet to stop pumping with adrenaline, his whole body was on fire. He didn't feel the ice cold wind wooshing in the air. All he did was harshly and aggressively rub his hands against his trousers, trying to rid himself of the blood. The lump in his throat felt unbearable, his knees gave out. He fell onto the ground. The white millions of snowflakes crunching underneath his weight.
The once perfect crystal white ground was now soaked in the dark red liquid that Luka eagerly tried to wipe off of himself.
But he knew. He knew no matter how much he cleaned his hands, he would never get rid of the blood.
Tears splashed into the snow as his body wrecked with sobs. He was so painfully crying her started coughing, choking. He hoped. He hoped he died from this. He hoped one of the icicle above his head that stuck to the shelter of the hospital would drop and cut trough him.
