responds by blinking two times. Shit.
Think Wyatt, damn. I have to do something! I have to keep his heart beating.
“Wyatt,” he chokes, blood seeping out of his mouth with his attempt to speak.
“Shut up. Don’t you fucking say it. Don’t you dare give up, not now. Not after all these years. You fight, dammit! You hear me?”
He blinks once for yes. Good.
The sirens get closer, but still not close enough. Deep down, I know this is it, but I can’t accept it. I don’t know how.
“Go home to her when you’re done,” Kyle says, his voice weak. “Tell them I love them, and that...” His eyelids begin to close.
“Open your eyes, dammit! Open. Your. Eyes!” I order. He lifts them slowly. “Fight, push through this. You promised her, Anderson. You do not break your promises,” I choke out.
But he is, he’s breaking his promise. FUCK! Why is this happening? He’s fading. His eyes flutter back and forth, and he’s paler than a cloud on a sunny day.
“I’m okay to die. I’m fine,” he attempts to whisper. I hang my head as tears fill my eyes. “Just , don’t give up on her, okay? She loves you. She’s never stopped,” he pauses to cough. Blood sprays from his mouth as he coughs.
“I won’t give up,” I promise. “I’ll fight for her. I won’t give up,” I assure him.
He opens his mouth to speak, but gasps instead.
“No. No, no, no! Wake up!” I smack his cheek hard enough to get his attention, but he doesn’t respond.
Shit. Maybe the pressure against his artery has caused him to black out. I release some pressure from his neck, but as I ease up, blood seeps through my thick jacket and covers my hand. I know he’s lost too much blood.
I use the fingers of my free hand and force his eyelids open. “Anderson, open your motherfucking eyes now...please,” I sob. Fuck being strong. How can I be strong when the only brother I’ve ever known is dying in my fucking arms? This can’t be it. This can’t be the end. We’ve been through too much shit over the last few years for it to end right now.
He still doesn’t respond. And deep down inside I know, even if the ambulance got here now; he wouldn’t make it. I watch as his chest stills, and his body goes limp. Using my fingers, I check his opposite carotid for a pulse, but I feel nothing.
I lift my eyes to the sky, angry with my ‘Protector’. “What am I supposed to do now, huh? Why now? Out of the goddamn years you’ve saved us, why the fuck now!” I choke. I release the pressure from his neck, scoop him into my arms, and carry him away from the ruckus. My best friend, my brother...is gone.
Allie is going to lose her shit, and this time, I’m not there to comfort her. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t even call her; the phones will be shut down until they notify Lucille. I can’t imagine how hard Lucille is going to take the news. They say the worst pain in the world is experiencing the loss of a child. All I want to do is be there for them.
I feel like such a fucking failure. I came here to protect him, to keep him alive. I came here to prevent Lucille and Allie from feeling the pain of losing another loved one. I vowed to throw myself in front of bullets and bombs for him. This is what I get for letting my guard down, for getting comfortable with the quietness we’ve had over the last few weeks.
Finally, I’m met by the paramedics. They don’t have to ask me anything. They know who he is, who doesn’t? Plus, he’s identified by his name badge and unit patch on the side of his uniform. They don’t have to ask what happened; they can tell by the rubble, the ruckus, the burns to his face and hands, and the nails sticking out from his neck.
I fall to my knees and lay Kyle to the ground. I take my fingers and close his eyelids. Before I remove my hands from his body, I whisper my final farewell. “This isn’t goodbye, bro. This is ‘see you later’. Watch over me. Keep me safe and help me return home. Love you,
Think Wyatt, damn. I have to do something! I have to keep his heart beating.
“Wyatt,” he chokes, blood seeping out of his mouth with his attempt to speak.
“Shut up. Don’t you fucking say it. Don’t you dare give up, not now. Not after all these years. You fight, dammit! You hear me?”
He blinks once for yes. Good.
The sirens get closer, but still not close enough. Deep down, I know this is it, but I can’t accept it. I don’t know how.
“Go home to her when you’re done,” Kyle says, his voice weak. “Tell them I love them, and that...” His eyelids begin to close.
“Open your eyes, dammit! Open. Your. Eyes!” I order. He lifts them slowly. “Fight, push through this. You promised her, Anderson. You do not break your promises,” I choke out.
But he is, he’s breaking his promise. FUCK! Why is this happening? He’s fading. His eyes flutter back and forth, and he’s paler than a cloud on a sunny day.
“I’m okay to die. I’m fine,” he attempts to whisper. I hang my head as tears fill my eyes. “Just , don’t give up on her, okay? She loves you. She’s never stopped,” he pauses to cough. Blood sprays from his mouth as he coughs.
“I won’t give up,” I promise. “I’ll fight for her. I won’t give up,” I assure him.
He opens his mouth to speak, but gasps instead.
“No. No, no, no! Wake up!” I smack his cheek hard enough to get his attention, but he doesn’t respond.
Shit. Maybe the pressure against his artery has caused him to black out. I release some pressure from his neck, but as I ease up, blood seeps through my thick jacket and covers my hand. I know he’s lost too much blood.
I use the fingers of my free hand and force his eyelids open. “Anderson, open your motherfucking eyes now...please,” I sob. Fuck being strong. How can I be strong when the only brother I’ve ever known is dying in my fucking arms? This can’t be it. This can’t be the end. We’ve been through too much shit over the last few years for it to end right now.
He still doesn’t respond. And deep down inside I know, even if the ambulance got here now; he wouldn’t make it. I watch as his chest stills, and his body goes limp. Using my fingers, I check his opposite carotid for a pulse, but I feel nothing.
I lift my eyes to the sky, angry with my ‘Protector’. “What am I supposed to do now, huh? Why now? Out of the goddamn years you’ve saved us, why the fuck now!” I choke. I release the pressure from his neck, scoop him into my arms, and carry him away from the ruckus. My best friend, my brother...is gone.
Allie is going to lose her shit, and this time, I’m not there to comfort her. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t even call her; the phones will be shut down until they notify Lucille. I can’t imagine how hard Lucille is going to take the news. They say the worst pain in the world is experiencing the loss of a child. All I want to do is be there for them.
I feel like such a fucking failure. I came here to protect him, to keep him alive. I came here to prevent Lucille and Allie from feeling the pain of losing another loved one. I vowed to throw myself in front of bullets and bombs for him. This is what I get for letting my guard down, for getting comfortable with the quietness we’ve had over the last few weeks.
Finally, I’m met by the paramedics. They don’t have to ask me anything. They know who he is, who doesn’t? Plus, he’s identified by his name badge and unit patch on the side of his uniform. They don’t have to ask what happened; they can tell by the rubble, the ruckus, the burns to his face and hands, and the nails sticking out from his neck.
I fall to my knees and lay Kyle to the ground. I take my fingers and close his eyelids. Before I remove my hands from his body, I whisper my final farewell. “This isn’t goodbye, bro. This is ‘see you later’. Watch over me. Keep me safe and help me return home. Love you,
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