𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒

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          𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 onto the hard concrete floor is the only thing i can seem to feel.

my body finds itself dragging along the concrete floor, the burning of my knees not processing though my brain by the adrenaline.

the crowd of people screaming and yelling don't seem to bother me.

gunshots are almost missing my body by an inch. i still keep going towards ingrid. until i find myself in front of her.

slowly raising my hand to her body, i touch her body like it's a ceramic plate ready to crack and break into a million pieces.

ingrids blood being absorbed onto my clothes leaving a harsh stain on my pants and ends of my shirt, but also my mind.

with pale fingers, i turn over her body slowly, to try and locate where the the injury is located.

when she's flat on her back, the middle of her chest is an ugly dark red, her clothes being soaked with so much blood it looks like she's been in a pool of it.

my body feels like my soul and heart has been ripped out and won't ever be put back.

i can't seem to breathe. i don't want to breathe. not without ingrid breathing.

i use two fingers and place it to her neck, trying to locate any heartbeat, any sign of life. my hands are trembling so much i can't even tell if i'm getting a heartbeat or if it's just me.

i put my ear near her face to hear any breathing.

15 seconds. 15 painful seconds.

is the amount of time until i hear a short attempt of ingrid trying to intake any air she can into her lungs.

her face is more pale then my fingers. she looks like a ghost, but even on the furge of death she still looks peaceful. even with both of my hands to her chest applying pressure to the gunshot.

she's accepted the fact she's going to die.

i haven't.
i cant.
i wont accept it if she dies.

"ingrid, im so so so sorry, i love you so much. so so so much." i don't know if she can hear me. i'm praying she can.

the more pressure i apply to her chest, the more guilt of not being here sooner is eating me alive.

my vision is blurry. tears are going down my cheeks, it's restricting me from seeing ingrid and if she had any sort of expression on her face.

salty tastes of teardrops are on my tounge the more i try to talk with ingrid.

"stop-it hurts."

"i know, please just wait. please. i promise i'm not trying to hurt you."

"is james-" she stops. coughs. blood now coming out of her mouth; onto her chin and now on her chest. blending in the already existing blood on her chest. "-okay?" her voice is so low i can barely pick up what's shes saying.

"yes-he's fine. he's safe." even if lying to ingrid is bad, making her worry even more about james is worse. "good. that's good."

"you're not going to die, i'm right here next to you-"my words die out at the end as i use one hand to tug my shirt up and over my head. i use it to ball it tightly and use that to apply more pressure to the bleeding.

everything around me is drowning out. the screams of terror turn into ingrid's hard rugged breathes. the gunshots turn into the blood gushing out of her wound staining and absorbing into my shirt and won't stop. the boots of the soliders turn into ingrid's soft mutters as she says her 'last words'.

the only thing i care about in this moment is ingrid. even if i get hit, my body is covering ingrid. it's giving her a better chance at survival. i would give my life to her.

"go." one word ingrid said i hoped she didn't. an impactful word. a word i wont abide too. "i'm not leaving you. i cant. i-i won't."

she slowly raises her hand, she so weak. she's using all her strength to even raise her arm.

she places two fingers on her lips. specks of blood following on her finger when touching them. she raises her arm higher, shaking, and places it on my chest.

two fingers lay on my left breast, on my heart. the blood on her fingers transfer onto my bra.

as she lowers her fingers it makes a line; a remembrance of ingrid.

her way of saying goodbye. her way of saying i love you.

i wish and wish my tears would stop. one look at ingrid is all i need; before death takes her away from me.

using my shoulder, i try hard to wipe my tears, desperately. when i have vision out of my right eye, i stop rubbing my face onto my shoulder. blinking, i open both eyes.

she's gone.

her eyes are open but they look dead, like a corpse that's been rotting for years. both her arms lay next to her, one hand; with two fingers having blood on them.

those two fingers were her final words.

ingrid's decided those two fingers to my heart was enough of a "i love you."

it was enough, more than enough.

𝟓/𝟏𝟓/𝟐𝟑𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 -

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𝟓/𝟏𝟓/𝟐𝟑
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 -

never wrote a death of a character so i hope this was good!! sorry it's so short, the trio will be there next chapter dwww

𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯; 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘰Where stories live. Discover now