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There wasn't a white light like people said, there weren't the seven minutes of memory or thought; all it was, was a surge of pain and nothing but darkness. It was black emptiness. No thoughts. No consciousness. Nothing.
I was terrified. I was alone.
I stared into the void, hills forming on my skin. Was this what death is really like? Just the absence of light. That was it?
I couldn't remember much but I remembered him.
"Especially not you."
My body fell to the ground grabbing my side as it ached in pain. Lucius dropped the gun, looking at me in horror.
"Eliza, I am so sorry" He gulped "It was supposed to be a warning shot."
Sam had stared at him with daggers in his eyes. "A warning shot into her chest?"
"You insignificant - " Sam ran in his direction, slamming him into the wall. "You think it's okay to imprison these people for your pathetic vendetta. You are becoming what you had despised and I don't even think you care."
"You are ruining lives and you shall pay for it."
George had tried to pull him off the man, screaming violently. "Sam, come on. I'll take care of him. Eliza needs you."
Sam had let go breathing heavily. "I swear to God, George if he escapes - "
"He won't."
Sam had turned to my body, his eyes softening as he looked at me
"No, Eliza, come on. Stay with me" Sam had run to my collapsed body, rocking me gently in his arms. For a split second, I had felt a sense of bliss. It was a nice feeling, one that I knew wouldn't last even with my deepest pleas.
He held his forehead against mine, his tear falling on my cheek. "There are so many things I need to say, please, El, you can't die on me now, I just got you back."
I held my hand to his cheek, caressing it softly. I smiled slightly, the smile twitching as the pain waved through my body. He leaned his head against my head, wrapping his hand around mine.
I was prepared for my death as morbid as it sounds. I prepared myself for this. I had written letters of goodbyes, although Sam wouldn't let me say goodbye. I reached into my pocket, my hand scavenging for the letters I had written days before. I held the letters to him, shaking violently.
The letters had been wrapped in a thin string bow. I had written one for everyone because I thought everyone deserved a proper goodbye from me, even if they didn't care for my presence. Sam's was the hardest one to write because I didn't know what to say. I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye in the letter, how was I supposed to?
