Behind Your Walls

40 | risk it all for you

Panther tumbles to the floor as the bullet pierces his heart, making a hole. He doesn't cry, doesn't scream, he just falls and inhales a loud breath as his body hits the ground with a 'thud'.

Carter is the first one to come to his senses after the entire event has occurred and he crawls towards Panther.

"Fuck!" he curses, putting his hands over the hole on Panther's chest which is oozing blood. "Don't you fucking die, bastard."

Crimson liquid seeps through Panther's clothes, forming a pool on the wooden floor.

I don't imagine what happens next. Even though the act seems strange, it really happens. Panther is laughing. It is not a full-fledged laugh. It comes out as a giggle while blood starts pouring from his mouth.

I have never seen a person die.

But I will.

"Panther, don't close your eyes. The cops will be here soon," Carter says to the man who is fighting the last battle of his life. "There will be meds."

Both of Carter's hands are bloody now, colored with Panther's blood and his own. He tries to cover the bullet wound with a firmer press as if that will stop the flow. Panther grabs hold of Carter's sleeves as he keeps giggling and coughing out blood.

Then he turns his head and his eyes meet mine; the look in them is unfamiliar and maddening. I am knocked back to reality and the gun falls from my hand.

"He...corrupted you," Panther chuckles, the space between each of his white teeth stained with red. "He...corrupted you..."

He closes his eyes and laughs again. Then suddenly, he stops. His fingers grabbing Carter's sleeves fall to his sides and his body becomes completely still.

I see him breathe his last and I am the one who killed him.

"No, no, no..." Carter mutters with frantic breaths as he puts his ear over Panther's heart to listen to the sound of a beat.

He won't hear one because there isn't a beat left to be heard.

Panther is dead.

I killed him.

I am thrown back by the realization. My feet stumble as I put my hands over my mouth, going numb at the thought of what I have done. It hits me in a short second, all of it, together.

What is it that I feel?

Guilt, fear, or just...safety?

"Amaya..." Carter looks at me and goes quiet as I hit the wall behind me, sliding my body down.

My ears are ringing and everything is silent except for that ring. It is annoying and I put my hands to cover my ears but the ring doesn't go. I squeeze my eyes shut.

Maybe this is a nightmare. Maybe I am still on the couch watching Sherlock or even better, I am still six and my Dad is still alive. I have a real father and no one called Panther Black Gonzales is in my life. Maybe if I open my eyes, Dad will be near my bed and I will smile when I see him, holding the teddy that I won at the crossbow shoot. Children have wild imagination; I am just a part of my own.

But if I was a child, would I be feeling so much pain?

Hands are on my arms and someone is shaking me. I think it is Mom, asking me to wake up to get ready for school. Maybe this is the day I will first meet Kyle Dickson and become his little sister, the one he said he likes to bully. Maybe I am yet to grow up and when I do, I will grow up well. I will be with a Mom and a Dad, alive and well. Perhaps I will have a little brother or sister, or maybe an older one. I will be happy and just myself; I won't be a killer.