Time felt as if it had stopped all around me. The sound of the gunshot rang through my ears as I watched her fall right before my very eyes. Shouts rang out straight after and I watched the gunman run off in a hurry, finally leaving the two of us alone. I rushed over to her side, applying pressure to the bullet hole in her chest. It had struck right below the heart, piercing the lung instead. I knew it was fatal, but I couldn't help but to utter prayers to keep her alive. This woman, who saved me, was someone that meant the world to me. I loved this girl, and now she was dying. All because it was her job to protect me as my guard.
I began to recall how everything had started out. I was born into a rich family, and as such I knew quite well that I was privileged. I had an older brother who acted rather princely; honestly, I never did the same. I was outgoing and made friends with all of our caretakers and staff members even from childhood. They would tell me that I was the polar opposite of my older brother, and that he would do well to learn from me. Through this kind of treatment, he would always find ways to make me miserable, going so far as to sabotage my wardrobe or destroy my toys. Even through our teenage years he hated me for being the way I was. It had gotten so bad that Father thought it would be best to have a personal guard for me. Of course my older brother protested, but was quieted down when Mother gave him a firm glare. I smiled and thanked them both. Father told me that Mother knew someone who had three children who could be potential guardsmen and that they were both going to see that person today. I recalled waiting for Father and Mother to return home at the porch that day, eager to meet a new friend. When they came home, I remember feeling shocked that instead of a male guardsmen that I had believed they were trying to get for me, it was a female. She was just around the same age as I was, and her manners were like that of a gentleman. She was tomboyish but kind with a cool air about her. And I immediately rushed over to meet her.
She and I hit it off rather quickly, and ever since that day my brother had never gotten the chance to hurt me again. She would always be on the lookout for him; after catching him destroy another one of my dresses one day, she chased him around the house until Father stopped them. She had calmly explained what had happened and my brother tried to deny. When Father became angry that she was acting so hostile to him, I watched her fall to one knee and repeat her promise to him when he asked her to be my guard. It was enough to convince Father, and my older brother was sent away to live alone with two servants of his choosing. In his anger, the fool chose to go alone, and I had not heard from him since. It was as if a great burden had finally been lifted off my shoulders, and all it took was just this one girl to save me from a lifetime of suffering. I ended up wanting to get closer to her, wanting to learn more about her. What drove this girl to go so far and be so dedicated to being my guard? The answer came to me much faster than I expected.
It was winter, before Christmas, when I came to learn of why she was so dedicated. We were just talking in my room about things because we had free time in both our schedules; usually after the two of us had education together I would go off to take piano lessons while she trained in close combat as well as defense techniques. My father would usually be late in coming home since he was the CEO of a top performing company and my mother was a well-renowned pianist who sometimes traveled all over the world to perform, so I treasured moments like these dearly.
"You're always so focused on what you do," I was telling her, laying back down onto my bed as she was writing something on paper at my desk.
"What do you mean?" she asked calmly, turning to me with a curious look. I sat back up, sighing a bit.
"You always work so hard. Not just as my guard but also to help my family. You honestly don't have to yet you do so anyway. It's cool to me, I guess," I explained myself, suddenly feeling a bit shy. She giggled.
"I owe it to your family," she began to say, putting her pen down and standing up. She walked over to my bed and sat down, looking up at the ceiling wistfully. I wondered what she was thinking at the time. Her expression was hard to read, solemn and full of longing but still satisfied.
"Had your father not gone to see my family, I wouldn't have met you," she continued, a smile stretching across her face, "My family would remain in poverty and my two brothers would not have had a chance to explore the world for themselves. My older brother is now a mechanic and my younger brother is heading off to get education. Not only that, but your family has taken care of me in more ways than one, offering me the chance to have an education as well as the gift of meeting someone like you." The last part had caught me off-guard, but I brushed it off. I didn't know that it was the start of something more with her.
Two years had gone by ever since she became my guard. She was a lot stronger and toned than when I met her. She still looked fit back then, too, but now she was much more... well-built. I couldn't help but to look her way sometimes during our shared education period, watching her muscles flex with every subtle action. I didn't know why, but I couldn't look away. We had been a bit like friends-with-benefits at the time, with her giving me small bits of affection when we were alone. Sometimes she would hug my waist from behind when I had a bad day in an attempt to cheer me up, and I could still remember asking for her to stay with me in my room for many nights at a time. Mother nor Father ever found out, and it sort of became a secret that we kept to ourselves. One summer's night, Father hosted a beach party for me to meet suitors asking for my hand. I was rather hesitant, since Father requested for her to stand off to the side, but I conceded when he mentioned that I would be excused after meeting each one. There were ten suitors that I had to greet, each one fake and superficial in their own right. I could tell by the way they spoke and moved near me; they wanted me either for my body, for my family's money, or for status and bragging rights. Every time one got too close, I would always find my guard coming to my aid, making an excuse like "There is someone waiting to speak with you, Milady." I would mouth you a silent thank you when each suitor left and you would bow and kiss my hand every time. It seemed like forever until I met every suitor, but when I finally finished, I asked her to join me on the beach outside in the moonlight.
"Ha... I really don't get why Father needs me to think so soon about this," I recalled telling her the moment we were alone. She laughed in response, making me pout in mild anger.
"Relax, Milady," she replied as she tried to be serious again, kissing me once on my hand hand. I let out a tiny gasp at the gesture and felt my heart rate go up. I knew for a fact that my face was red, and when she looked up with a smirk I felt even worse. I wasn't going to give in to her teasing, so I walked up to her and wrapped my arms around her neck with a mischievous look.
"Why should I relax now?" I asked her coyly. She hummed in amusement when she placed her hands on my hips, making me feel hot. She leaned closer to my face, her breath hot on my lips as we touched foreheads.
"Cause you're with me?" she asked smugly. I always felt flustered every time she did this. Teasing aside, I knew that she was only doing this to help unwind and relax from the stress I was having. She was always looking out for me, caring for me. And that was when I leaned closer and kissed her tenderly. I tried my best to express through that kiss how much she meant to me. To my surprise, she returned it with equal fervor, and I relished in that moment of bliss. It was quite a while until we broke apart to catch our breaths. It wasn't the same after that night.
When they came with the intent to kill me I was frightened. I had watched Father and Mother be executed before my eyes and I was terrified because I knew I was next. I remembered seeing her look at me with determination in he eyes, taking me by the hand and running far from the chaos. Every one from staff to family member were dead as I ran past the pools of blood and the corpses that now scattered throughout the halls of my home. I couldn't bear to look at them; it hurt too much for me to do so. She led me towards our back garden, trying to hide the two of us until everything died over. I remember clinging to her with all my might, muttering something I can't recall like a protective mantra. She kept me close to her, wrapping her arms around me in an attempt to shield me from everything. Suddenly, I saw her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and we began running again. The man chasing us drove us to the edge of a private waterfall, cornering us. She stepped forward menacingly, and that's when I returned to the present. When I came back to my thoughts, I could faintly hear my quivering voice as I kept whispering "Please, please, please don't leave me." I was sobbing, my entire body shaking to each sob. I watched her lift her hand to wipe away my tears, trying to comfort me even though she was like this. I kept her hand on my cheek, leaning into her touch to cherish it. Then, suddenly, I felt her pull up towards me and our lips locked. It was tender despite the circumstance, mixed with the salt of my tears and the metallic taste of her blood. I wanted to let her know how much I loved her through our kiss; I wanted to tell her to stay alive so that we could have so much more. But, as happiness is always fleeting, our time was the same. She lost the rest of her strength to hold on and collapsed to the ground, growing still. My mind blanked from the immense heartbreak that I felt as I screamed her name into nothingness.
It was her family that found me. I was alone and hurt. My heart was broken from multiple things; from the death of my family, to the staff who cared for me, and finally from the loss of the one who I had come to love. I sobbed quietly at the waterfall where she had left me. I never moved from that spot, even after I buried her in my family's graveyard. The only thing that I kept as a living memory of her were two black leather gloves that she wore whenever she fought with someone. They were worn down from so much use, yet they still held the gentle warmth that she used to give me when she was alive. I cried over and over without stopping, holding those warm gloves close to my heart. Her family took me into their home and cared for me as if I was one of their own. Her two brothers became my brothers and I grew to be close to them. Little by little, I learned to love life again and overcame the pain I felt from losing so much. But I will always remember her to this day as I put on her gloves to spar with my brothers as it became routine overtime. The weird thing is, my new father told me that there was someone who wanted to hire me as a guard for their family just a few days ago, and that they were coming over to meet with me.
YOU ARE READING
Last Memories
Short StoryA young protector and a young heiress relive the past in the midst of chaos and destruction. Original story from my DA account.
