• My body couldn’t stop shaking. It felt as if the blood in my veins had been replaced by sorrow and now no matter how much I gave him CPR, it seemed as if the blood in my heart would never pump again either.

    “Wake up!” I screamed. He didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. “Wake up!” I screamed even louder. Nothing was in that empty basement. Nothing but him, me and his pool of blood, which just so happened to be on my hands. My long black hair clumped together from the sweat and blood. I had been crying so long that I was struggling to breathe. His limp body laid half against me and the gun sat next to him. My body was filled with so much sadness and grief, I went numb. I felt nothing. It was as if I had left my body and was watching from above. A woman, a stranger in my body, reached a shaky hand out toward the gun and picked it up. She tested the weight of it and opened it to see if it was loaded. It was. It still had 3 bullets remaining. She placed the gun to her temple and without hesitation, she pulled the trigger. Instead of hearing a loud, deafening bang the only sound to be heard was a small click. In frustration, the women threw the gun at the wall and it clattered to the floor. I came back to my body and felt the grief grip me once more. My chest was tight and I took ragged breaths. I continued to give him CPR, refusing to accept the fact that he was dead, but knowing deep down he was. It was all my fault. If I had only been a better person to him, none of it would have happened. If I had done maybe one thing right, he wouldn’t have died. If…If…So many ifs…yet I was no time traveller, I couldn’t change what happened. I still refused to accept it. I heaved him up against the closest wall.

    “Please…please wake up!” I started yelling. His eyes were open and although they were staring at me, they weren’t focused. His eyes were piercing my soul, staring straight through me. I couldn’t bare to be here any longer. I raced up the stairs, out of the basement and through the abandoned house. It was dark and as my foot connected with the wooden floorboards, they creaked and groaned. Ripped and shredded curtains blew with the wind. It was hot, but it was night time. I stopped as I got to the front door. It was mouldy and snapped off its hinges. The bare door way revealed the cool night and empty fields around the house. My car was still half on the deserted highway and half on the dirt track leading to the old farm house. After all the years, you’d think that I would have taken care of my family home, when really; as a teenager I couldn’t wait to get out of this place. Just like now. I wanted to be gone. I wanted to leave. The faintest noise caught my attention; sirens. They were off in the distance, but on the horizon. If I focused my eyes, I could see the red and blue flashing lights. With one last look behind me, I burst from the house and ran…