THE BOY AND THE DYING GIRL
My eyes widen.
Air whooshes past me as I'm pulled to the side.
The right headlight hits my left thigh. I'm tossed against the side of the car.
I smack into the passenger door, my head banging against the window.
Within the space of less than five seconds, I'm flat against the road, the cold pricking at the exposed skin from a pair of ripped jeans. I open my eyes, and wince as I roll myself off of my front and onto my back.
Facing the sky my vision clears and I notice the snow falling from the clouds. There's an intensifying pain in my left leg and it shoots up my spine in waves, like an angry ocean crashing against the rocks of the shore.
But none the less. I'm alive.
There's a heart still beating in my chest and my lungs still take in fresh air and release the old.
Sitting up, I sharply suck in air and grit my teeth when I look down at the source of the stinging from my arm. All the way up my forearm is a long graze and a little bit of blood seeps around the remaining material of the white sleeve.
There's a dull pain in the back of my head but I put it aside when I see the crashed car, smashed against the stone wall. Steam pools from under the bonnet and the headlights are out. I go to get up and check on the driver, but as I raise my left leg, the pain comes all at once like a punch to the windpipe and I let out a shriek, tears forming in my eyes.
Instead of losing my strength and falling back from the pain, I'm suddenly supported by two hands around my waist; keeping me up. I turn my stiff and sore neck and see Ryden there, crouching beside me. He looks at me with a relieved smile, and I notice how glassy his eyes have become.
"You're okay," he says breathlessly.
"Well, mostly," I croak, looking to my injured leg. I can see it bulging underneath what's left of my jeans.
"I think we can get that fixed," he says.
I look back up to the car, where the passenger door hangs ajar, crumpled.
"Is the driver okay?"
"Unconscious, but breathing. We'll need an ambulance for you both. Where's your phone?" Ryden asks. Instinctively, I reach for my back pocket but it's empty. I look around the dark road and notice something shattered up ahead. With my good arm, I point to it.
"There," I state and Ryden frowns.
"How come whenever there's a need for your phone it either has no credit or is completely useless?" he asks, jokingly. I give a small laugh, shrugging. I wince as the action creates another crash of pain against my body.
"Take it easy. I'll help you walk to the nearest house, you need medical care as soon as possible," Ryden tells me, leaving all joking behind.
On the count of three, he puts an arm under the both of mine and across my back and aids me to my feet. I take hold of his hand with mine we get me standing up. I put the most of my weight on my right leg to save myself creating more tears of agony.
Standing with Ryden for support, I keep hold of his free hand as we make for the closest house. I suggest that we head back for the station wagon as I remember parking it across a driveway.
The snow from above falls a bit heavier now and I can really feel the cold getting under my shredded clothes. Between the cold, the constant throbbing of my head and every other pain throughout my body I'm starting to wish I'd taken the Keeper's threat more seriously.
Whether it's the thought of my doomed fate or something else, I suddenly feel quite nauseas. I grip Ryden's hand with more force as I take deep breaths of cold fresh air to stop dinner coming up.
As if the waves of pain are quickly eroding at my inner strength, dizziness begins to take over me as well and I find myself involuntarily walking from side to side, aimlessly.
Without a shred of warning, my legs buckle at the knees from underneath me. I'm caught in a pair of strong arms before I can make contact with the road for a second time tonight.
"I'm okay," I lie. I look up to meet Ryden's eyes and he draws in his brows.
"If you need to rest for a moment, just let me know," he says.
I insist that we keep going.
Once again, he helps me to steady on my own two feet. We only get a few more steps down the road before the dizziness completely consumes me and I collapse.
Everything goes black.
"Hey, Lucy, thanks for staying."
I open my eyes again and I'm staring up at Ryden. He holds me in his arms and as if in slow motion, I watch as he screams for help, for someone to hear him. Tears stream down his cheeks and he rocks back and forth.
My vision fades again.
"I don't understand why God would burden someone like you with this."
There's a sensation on my cheek and for a brief moment I can see again. Ryden's looking down at me, holding my face in one of his hands. There's panic in his eyes and his hand shakes.
Everything is becoming slower. I can't feel the pain anymore.
"Please, don't go."
It's Ryden's voice, but even as I watch his mouth form the words, the voice and the blurred image before me just don't seem to match up. The image blotches to black again.
I don't want to go.
Not like this.
"I've never been this sure about anything else before."
In the last wave of consciousness, I don't waste any time. Everything may be slowing. Everything may be becoming fuzzy. Everything may be unsure, but I still have enough sense in me to remember the conversation Ryden and I had on my bed; the day he has confessed his feelings for me.
No. It didn't work the same way when there was someone like him involved. But I realise now, that that's okay. If it worked any other way, I wouldn't be able to give the world something back as I left it.
Ryden catches my eye.
I smile.
The end is near.
It's now or never.
"Grow old," I murmur.
With everything that's left in me, I take Ryden's face with my hand.
I pull him down.
I close my eyes.
I lean in.
And I kiss him.
"Let's make it worth every second, starting now."
THE END
YOU ARE READING
How To Love A Dead Boy
Paranormal[editing-slowly] Despite doing everything she can, Lucy Ainsworth can't forget the night that she held the hand of the dying stranger, Ryden Mitchells. However; when she finds herself face to face with his ghost in her bathroom mirror, she's throw...
