Caught

Chapter Forty-Seven

The sound of the bullets cutting through the air echoed through my mind. I snapped my head back once I was released from Mr. Garcia's grasp and looked down.

Cole. Lying limp on the ground. Blood oozing from where his heart was.

A chorus of gasps went around the room, with teenagers looking at us, the only three in the middle of the dance floor.

Blood. There was so much blood.

My brain did not work properly. I couldn't move, I could barely breath, I hardly heard what was going on around me. My feet were planted to the ground, my eyes were wide, shock spreading through my veins.

Why did I do that? Why did I make them do that? I kept of asking myself those questions, over and over again. I felt horrible. I felt broken. My body felt weak. I'm sure it wasn't the small, almost painless graze on my forehead that caused that.

"Okay, anyone injured raise your hand so we know who needs help." It was Tyson's voice breaking through the silence, springing into action. "Did anyone call nine-one-one yet?"

"I'm calling now." Spencer. "Hang in there, everyone. The police will be here to investigate soon."

My gaze didn't move from Cole. He wasn't breathing. His eyes were closed. He looked dead, but he couldn't be dead. I refused to believe it.

"He's not dead. He's not dead," I muttered to myself.

People started shuffling around, a few people walking closer to examine the - the crime scene. I didn't look up to see anyone and no one really got close enough to bother me. They left me alone - they knew I needed space.

And then: sirens. So many sirens, coming from outside. I looked up slightly, seeing flashes of red and blue outside the window. The police and paramedics were here. Already? I thought, and then I remembered. Someone called before the shooting occurred, the operator on the other side must've heard the first of the gunshots.

I turned around. The door burst open with about two dozen adults walking through the door with stretchers. Blurs of white, black and blue were scattered around the area, people rushing to help as many people as they could.

"I need you to step away, miss," I heard a feminine voice say from behind me. I turned around once again to find a paramedic beside me. Two others were on their knees, attending Cole. One other, I could see, was urging Aidan towards the ambulance. He didn't move though, his eyes were on me.

I didn't move. I didn't want to move. It was Spencer, who walked up from behind and pulled me a few steps backwards, that made me move. His comforting arms were around me still as the paramedic joined the other two on the ground.

One of the two spoke three words and three words only: "There's no pulse."

There's no pulse.

There's. No. Pulse.

That's when I broke. I simply snapped. Tears started flowing down my face before I could try to stop them. I couldn't hold them in any longer, everything just hurt.

I killed him. I killed him - the boy who let me be normal girl. He's gone, and it's all my fault.

I untangled myself from Spencer's grasp and pushed passed the paramedics, who complained and tried to pull me away. I got on my knees, sitting beside Cole's limp body. I held his hand - his cold, lifeless hand which only moments ago had been squeezing me tightly.

"Please wake up," I begged. "Please, please, please."

I was a mess. I was broken. The paramedics tried to pull me away but I just couldn't.