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Chapter I
I smiled. Her face glowed in the fading sun. She threw her head back and laughed. I took her by the hand and we spun around, her hair flying wildly in the breeze. The sand felt cold and soft between my toes as we stood there on that beach. I pulled her in close to me and wrapped my arms around her. I heard the words echo through the evening sky before I had even mouthed them, “I love you…”
The amber light painted across her face when I leaned in to kiss her. Our lips touched in an explosion of sensation. “I never want to lose you…”
Bright fluorescent lights. She gripped my hand tightly. I raced alongside the gurney, desperate to never leave her side. I could not look down at her, I just couldn’t do it. Nurses in scrubs, and doctors in their white coats brushed by me in a blur. A policeman stood next to the door, and as I tried to enter with her, he stopped me. I fought and screamed, not wanting to even let go of her hand. I tried to push past him, jump over him, and even punch him. He held me back, then put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me into his chest.
I had known him since we were kids. His name was Brock, and in high school he had decided to become a police officer. Head buried into his chest, I wept. My tears stained his shirt for longer than I could imagine. I pushed away from him and stumbled to a chair, collapsing into the seat and dropping my head into my hands. Brock stepped over to me, placing his hand on my shoulder.
“We found her in the alley near the apartment. She was… pretty messed up. I’m sorry man.” The friend before me said, choking over his words. He bit back tears fiercer than I could; then again, he had a wife and kids safely at home, not lying in the ER at the county hospital.
After awhile I could control myself and stopped crying. I paced, right outside the room. Every now and then I tried to glance through a window, but I could not raise my eyes to it. The words echoed through my brain after Brock told me, “She was raped.” I was torn; should I wait here until she was better, or should I go and try to find the man responsible? I knew the latter was impossible, I had no leads, no idea what he looked like. Yet still, the thought of revenge, the feel of my hands around his neck until the last choking gasp of life passed through his throat, would not escape my head.
