Hailey
4 months ago...
"Jess, are you sure it's safe out here? Maybe we should head back," I tell my slightly-too-relaxed best friend. She simply smiles and keeps walking.
Jess and I have been best friends ever since kindergarten. Jess is a tall, beautiful, half-Latina, half-American girl, who always knows exactly how to make me feel better. Yet, at this moment, she can't. I am terrified. People injecting themselves with drugs, mothers screaming at their children because they didn't get enough money during the day, and more people fighting over a blanket. We are in the streets of San Francisco, close to midnight. It is colder than usual and the trembling of my body, which comes from the fear, doesn't help keep me warm either. It isn't safe for us to be out here, and we are both very aware of this, which is why she doesn't answer my question.
A loud bang makes me jump up and turn my head to look in the direction it came from. "Cálmate, chica. We're going to be fine.'' Her telling me to calm down isn't anything new either, but it still bothers me. I have never been as brave as Jess, and I imagine I will never be. Still, I can't help wishing to be less... weak.
I am a very cautious person, and she knows this all too well. I take her hand, and she squeezes it to reassure me we are going to be fine. I have never liked how Jess always has to be the stronger person out of both of us. Ever since we were little children, she stood up for me and protected me. She was all I had for most of my life.
As I bring my attention back to reality and the street in front of me, I notice a petite woman walk past us with a terrified expression on her young face. She sees exactly what I see. The city is very dangerous at night, especially with all the drugs being used. I look down her side and see her child pressed against her, an action which indicates the want to protect her daughter no matter what. I wonder what that feels like: parents who actually care about you.
My parents aren't good parents. They are never home, and they don't try to be either. Their work is more important to them, which they have said to my face countless times. Whenever I have a problem, they aren't the ones I go to. Jessie is the one. Well, Jess and her parents. They have been my family for a long time. Instead of questioning why I don't talk to my own parents, they are just there for me. No questions asked. Jess must have told them about my 'family-situation' at one point, but I don't care. I have always wanted parents like Jessie's, but I also know my parents would never, ever be like them. My best friend is very lucky, she got the best ones.
After we walk past another closed shop, I breathe in and out very quickly and loudly a few times, to try and bring my heart rate down. "Hales, please chill. You're making me nervous. We'll be fine," she reminds me.
We walk a few more minutes in silence. It is so quiet, I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears. This may also be because my heart is beating twice as fast as usual, but nonetheless, it's deafeningly quiet. My hand never leaves Jessie's, and my breathing stays uneven. Big cities have never been my thing. They scare me. I read the newspaper a lot and every time I do, something bad has happened again.
A tall man walks past us, and I scoot closer to Jess. He has a weird smile on his face, which makes me more than uncomfortable. As he passes by, he also cocks an eyebrow, and I force my gaze back onto the ground.
We are close to the train station. All the shops are already closed by the time we walk by them and the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach doesn't go away. How can it, when everything is telling me to go hide somewhere? The first thing I learned when I was younger was never to be out this late at night in a big city. Yet, here we are, going against one of the most important lessons girls can learn. It makes it hard to get rid of the scared feeling, especially because at least ten people are watching us closely.
"Don't move or this ain't gonna end well for you," a deep voice says from behind us. We stop and immediately tense up. My grip tightens around Jessie's hand, making her wince in pain. Slowly, we turn around and look at the six-foot-something man, who is pointing a knife at us. The torn beanie, his ripped clothes, and long facial hair suggest he might be homeless. It looks like he hasn't gotten the chance to take a shower or have money to get a haircut. "Give me your wallets and phones and nothing will happen to you," he warns, and we reach for our wallets and phones. Well, at least I do.
Jess reaches for the pepper spray in her pocket. Obviously alarmed by her quick movements, the robber lunges forward before she even has the chance to use the spray on him. The distance between the knife and my best friend closes rapidly, and I don't think as I jump between them. Everything inside of me screams to protect Jessie, and I hope I can stop the knife from hitting her. I feel the blade as it slices my left leg open. I fall to the ground and scream in torture. The wave of pain, which rushes through me almost makes me puke. Blood is flowing out of the wound, too fast and too much. When Jess tries to run to me, the man pulls her back by her hair and slams the knife into her stomach.
"NOOOOO!" I scream and cry at the same time.
Jess looks at me before her eyes roll back into her head. The man takes off and leaves her to fall to the ground with the weapon still stuck in her stomach. Panic washes over me, and I bite my bottom lip as I hold in the screams of pain. I crawl over to her, hoping I can help her. The wound on my leg is deep, I notice it because blood keeps flowing out of it. Yet, I don't care. I need to reach my best friend. I have to help her. I have to do something
"Stop... stop moving. You're losing too much blood." Her voice is barely a whisper. "You need to fight, okay? Fight for me." I can hear the pain in her voice. The way it cracks as she finds the last remaining strength inside of her. "There is no way... that we're both going down like this." Tears stream down her face, and I scream out in frustration. There was nobody around. Nobody could help her.
"No, no, no, no, no, Jessie. No, please. Stay with me. Please, you can't leave me. You're all I have," I say to her. She is all I have. I cannot lose her. "Help, please! Somebody, she's dying!" I almost choke on my own saliva while I scream for someone to come help.
She looks up at me and a small smile touches her lips. "I love you, Hales. I always have and I always will. You... you were willing to... to sacrifice yourself for me. Thank you for that." She is saying goodbye. Why is she saying goodbye? She can't just leave me. "You mean everything to me. Thank you for a full life with so many amazing memories." Blood starts flowing out of her mouth, and I panic.
"No, don't say that. Please, don't say that," I beg her, but I know there is no chance she will make it. The wound is too deep, and I can't even call for help because both of our phones are out of battery. All I can do is press down on her wound and hope someone will call an ambulance. I scream again, but nobody responds. Nobody cares that she is dying. Sobs leave me as I let the thought sink in. She is dying. My best friend is dying. No. Please, no. I can't- I can't lose her.
"It's okay. Just don't leave me. I don't want to be alone." Tears roll down her face and then mine.
"I won't, I promise." Another sob escapes my mouth. More tears run down my face. "I love you, always and forever," I told her before she lost all emotion in her eyes. "No," I whisper because there is no longer any strength in my voice to scream. I place my hands over her chest to give her CPR because it is the only thing I can think of doing. For the past two years, I have been studying medicine, but nothing I have learned can help me save my sister.
Eventually, I hear the sirens of the ambulance, but it is too late. Someone must have called 911, but I have already given up trying to revive her. She is gone. My hand is still wrapped around hers while I try to understand why or how this happened. Nothing is working in my head. I'm unable to function, which is why I hold onto her, even when the paramedics try to take her away. I have to hold onto her. If I let go, she will be truly gone, and I can't let that be. I scream and cry as I do my best not to let go, but the paramedics tear me away. I beg her not to leave me, even though I know she can't hear me. The female paramedic strokes my hair to calm me, but I don't stop screaming for a while.
When I finally do, I feel numb. I look down at the blood on my hands and then watch them take her away from me in a body bag. They take me too since the wound on my leg is also very deep. But I don't care about my leg, not while I watch my whole life disappear in front of me. I can't even process it. I'm just numb.
Jessie is my safe place, she is my best friend, she is my sister. All of a sudden, she has been ripped away from me. My safe place is ripped away from me. It isn't fair. It should have never been her.
It should have been me.