His purpose (you die, I die)

Chapter four

The sound of the gunshot was so loud, so deep and strong. Everything went so fast, it felt like I was trapped in some kind of trance.

The sound of car doors slamming snapped me out of it, and when I heard a loud groan it hit me, there was a man lying there.

I ran over to him, he was shot in his chest, all the blood made it much harder to see how fatal the wound was and how much time he had. I tried to pull his shirt up, but he groaned in pain right away.

I pulled up my phone to dial 911, but the sight of the black screen reminded me, that's how I ended up here.

"D-do you have a phone?" I stuttered, I took deep breathes, I can't panic, If I panic then he panics. Its principle. 1, 2, 3.

"Who are you?" He let out a breath, he was starting to fall out of consciousness.
"It's not important, do you have a phone? We have to call 911" I spoke, while tearing of the sleeve of my shirt and putting pressure on the wound to stop the blood.

He threw his head back, trying to avoid the pain.  "No ambulance, no cops"

My eyes widened at his statement, is he crazy or does he just have a strong death wish.

"What? No, you're going to die if we don't get you to the hospital" I had to bring him to the hospital. There's no other option.

He used all his strength to lift his head, and his eyes met mine, I couldn't see much thanks to the little to no lights, but one thing I gathered was that his eyes were dark.

"I said no"

"You're crazy" I replied, feeling bad the second it left my lips.
"You don't know half of it, angel" panic started to rush down when I saw his eyes starting to close. I stood up and looked around, and suddenly my eyes hit jackpot, the store. The same store that is a five-minute walk away from my apartment, I guess I've just never been on the other side of it.

I looked at it, then back at him, and then at it again. Would we make it?  We have to, I'm not losing another life. I won't.

I looked at him, he wasn't conscious, I slapped his face and his eyes shot open, giving me a deadly glare.

"What the fuck?" You're welcome.
"Are you able to walk? I'm going to help you, but you need to cooperate" I said, he was way too big for me to lift him unconscious all the way.
"fine."

It took all of my, and his strength combined to lift him up. His arm was placed around my shoulders, and we were making our way to my apartment. I could feel him get weaker for every step, and I prayed and prayed that we would reach the apartment in time. He can't die, I can't let him die.

Only steps away from the door, I his arm slipped away from my neck, and he was on the doormat.
"No, no please" I let out,  grabbing my keys and kicking open the door, trying to get in as fast as possible. Barszik came running in seconds, meowing at me and the body right next to the door.

"Really bad timing Barszik"

I put all my strength in my arms and started dragging the man inside, checking right away for pulse. Thank God, he still had pulse, very weak pulse, but it was there.

I grabbed some clean sheets and placed him on them, I didn't have a table that could bear his weight and putting him on the bed would make it way too unsteady.

I ran to the cupboard in the bathroom and took out the box that had a huge red X on it. Everything I needed to perform surgery was in there. I vowed to never use it again but for some reason I still couldn't let go of it.

I was now standing right next to his body, it was now or never.

I had to break the promise, the promise I made and told myself I'd rather die than break.
I had to perform surgery on him.
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It's been days, two days to be precise.

It feels like I've been holding my breath the entire two days, like I'm suffocating and can't breathe until his eyes open, and I know that he's fine, that I did it. That this wasn't just another failure, and another life had ended under my hands.

The surgery took seven hours, seven hours with no assistance, no guidance and pure instinct. I still don't know how I managed, but I did. His pulse was now stronger, but other than that there was no sign of life. I should've taken him to the hospital, but even when it was about life or death, I couldn't find myself going against someone's wish, someone who was seconds away from losing life.

Hundreds of questions were racing through my mind

Who is he? Where is he from? How did he end up like this?

All these questions and no answer, I felt like I was going crazy. The lack of food probably had a big role in it, but I didn't feel like I could eat when there was a stranger lying in my bed, fighting between life and death. He seemed like a survivor though. I was betting on it.

I changed his bandages for the third time, making sure everything was clean and there was no sign of infection.

My eyes landed on his face, I couldn't help the urge to study him.

Long thick black lashes, the color matched his jet-black curly hair. Plumpy lips, but just the perfect amount, not too much and not too little, formed into a straight line. Tan skin, he wasn't American, and by the words and accent I heard the other night, I would say he was from a country were Spanish was the main language.

I had to stop myself from studying him more, I felt like a creep. At least wait until the man is awake.

I was getting restless; I couldn't just sit here and do nothing. I looked around in the apartment, trying to find something to keep me busy. My eyes landed at the kitchen. Maybe I should make something in case he wakes up hungry... if he wakes up.

I looked over at Barszik the second I entered the kitchen, he is wagging his tail. He loves watching me make food, food was like therapy for me.