Then Nothing

Story I just wrote :) for fun mostly.

 

I guess I just wasn’t paying attention, that and the fact that I was too nervous to care about anything other than ringing that doorbell. If only I had done so sooner or maybe if I wasn’t even there in the first place, maybe then things would be different. I remember walking up the steps, taking each step carefully, feeling the cracks of the old concrete under my worn in sneakers. Despite my carefulness I still managed to trip and had to frantically grab for the thin iron railing. It almost collapsed under my less than averaged weight.

I turned around to see if anyone was looking and caught sight of three teenagers, in the abandoned parking lot next door. They didn’t notice, that or they just didn’t care. There was probably a drug deal going on. Those kinds of things happened pretty often in this neighbourhood.

The doorbell was hanging by its cable right beside the barred door. I took it in my hand. I fingered the plastic casing carefully. I just wanted to push that button. But despite my wishes I dropped the doorbell and took the crumpled note out of my pocket instead. It was slightly sweaty from my hands but otherwise it was perfectly intact. You could still read it and that was all that mattered. I started to place it in the mailbox.

I took a breath. No, I should do this in person. I kept the note firmly in my hand. I mustered up the courage, picked the doorbell up in my hand and pressed the button. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest and when the door finally creaked open I thought I was about to pass out, not exactly the best route to go. Then I saw the reason I was here and relaxed ever so slightly. I even smiled.

“Hi” I said.

She looked back at me curiously, probably wondering what in the world I was doing on her side of town. A kid like me didn’t come this way often.

“Hi” she said back, finally smiling.

Her hair was back in a pony tail and she was wearing sweat pants and a loose t-shirt, her usual clothes. She was athletic; I was the school nerd, or something like it. We were polar opposites to say the least. I looked back up at her.

I was about to speak when I heard the gunshot. It took a second before feling a searing pain in my back. My hand flew to where the bullet hit, feeling the warm blood on my fingertips.

“That’s our girl white kid”

I fell.

She screamed.

A car drove away.

I lay on the ground. Seconds felt like minutes, passing by in slow motion. I was no longer aware of who was where doing what. The world was spinning. I tried to speak those words I came to say but all that came out was blood sputtering from my mouth. It trickled down the side of my cheek.

She was gone in a flash screaming at anyone who would listen, call 911, I heard her say. Just hold on. You can make it. I believe in you.

I was drowning, my lungs gasping for air. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, and as much as I wanted to, couldn’t hold on much longer.

She was crying then. I could hear it in her voice. It started wavering, choking. She sat down beside me and finally looked at me. That was all I wanted all those years, for her to look at me. Her brown eyes stared into mine, worried with fear. My vision started blurring; my lungs had nothing left. I lifted my hand and put it on her lap, opening it to reveal my note, still crumpled and worn. She cried harder as she opened the note.

She went silent.

I closed my eyes.

She held my hand.

The pain had stopped

“I love you too”

Then nothing.

 

Reviews

[Literature Writer]

This story is very beautiful. I didn't expect him to get shot but that's good because it's not predictable.

[Free Writer]

This makes me want to cry so hard!!! This was amazing! It surprised me when he got shot! This is so sad and yet so good at the same time! I absolutely love it! Keep writing!

[Drew Wade]

AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH... I'm so mad. not at your writing. the writing was excellent. the writing was wonderful, beautiful even. you were descriptive yet you used your words carefully. you gave me the picture of a character who's been fearful, filled with trepidation, hurt, abused, worn out, and yet still not bitter, and that's something that's hard to do.

The reason I'm so mad, and I'll be honest with you here, is that if this ends how I think it ends- I hate it. agggh.. I can't describe how much I can't handle a first person narrative ending in the narrator's death.. it's a trick, like the second-person narration that's been done in maybe two novels. it was neat the first time, but the same trick gets old after a while.

I beg you, I plead with you- this story doesn't have to have a happy ending... her friend can die. that's fine. just make the character live so I can believe in the story.. please please please??? this story is too well written to end this way!!!!

hahaha. I hope you didn't take my remarks as just random criticism... I wouldn't care so much about the ending if the rest of the story wasn't awesome.