RAINDROPS FLUTTERED WITH THE BREEZE while Chase's breath hitched as he exhaled. Waiting by their designated places, he impatiently stood there for her.
Foot stomping and all, curiosity hit him right in the face. "Where could she be? She never shows up late."
With his thoughts overpowering his actions, Chase took his phone and dialed her number. Unfortunately, no one was picking up.
Time passes by and his worry kept on rising, not until he heard three gunshots and children crying. His gaze was then fixated on two people crowding in the middle of the road.
His heart started racing when he heard someone shout her name. Accompanying it with the words "Help! She got shot," he knew something was wrong.
Without even realizing his actions, he was running towards the direction from where the shout of help was heard. There, he saw her, lifelessly lying on the middle of the road, head drowning in a puddle of blood as the rain slowly dissolves the pigment of crimson red.
Tears were rolling down his cheeks but the raindrops falling onto his skin made it look like he wasn't crying - made it look like he wasn't in pain but in reality, he felt like he was the one who got shot straight through the heart.
Nothing was more painful than seeing the love of his life die right in front of him because him dying at that moment felt far better than seeing someone he loves slowly vanish.
So Chase stood there, staring pitifully at a lifeless body, not paying attention to anyone around him. Not even realizing the gun that is pointed at his head. Not even feeling the pain of being shot.
He was numb while watching the love of his life die so he was numb when he died. And on the same night, on the same date, on the same weather;
Chase Harper died and Clare Florence was born.