WashingtonY1213


 * What if **

The main character, Nick wants to believe that Robin isn’t dead and time will go back, but realizes Robin is dead and isn’t coming back.

“Please someone! Call an ambulance.” I scream in horror as I cradle Robin’s body. One by one lights flicker on to answer my shouts and cries for help. Curious, nervous eyes peek through blinds, and then later emerge out onto their front porches speechless at the breath-taking sight. Like a car accident, it is so unbelievably awful that it consumes your undivided attention.

“Robby,” I whisper hoping that she will awaken from the gentle sound of my voice. I clasp her hands in mine; they have an unnaturally cold feel. I clutch her closer, hoping a miraculous miracle will occur. I look down to notice the source of dampness soaking through my shirt; a bullet wound, right below her heart. My eyes travel to her hand clutched tightly around the bottom of her shirt, and then to the grimace the wound spread upon her lips.

A coppery smell pollutes the air. If someone asked me to describe the smell, I would just simply call it the smell of death. No living corpse would have a smell such as this.

She died on the cold hard pavement. Here all alone, without anyone to hold her hand or tell to “I am scared”. She had no comfort in her last few minute of life. She must have been scared to have died all alone. How hopeless and helpless she must’ve felt to feel her body getting cold, as blood slowly drained from her body.

What if I had shown up earlier? Maybe I wouldn’t be cradling Robby’s limp lifeless body. The ever growing circle of blood created from the murderous wound would be non-existent. The rise and fall of her chest to account for every rhythmic breath would be seen.

Time, I want it back so badly now. It is such a precious little thing. Her time was lost due to my ignorance and carelessness for time. What if I had been on time? Would that have extended her time?

I am speechless; no words can be formed to express my pain. She is dead, and a part of me is now dying slowly too. I know in my body, mind, heart, and soul that not a day will go by that I will not remember her and the beauty she brought to my life. Instantly tears begin to fall from my eyes and onto my cheeks. I need no time for anything to sink in, I know what is.

My wishes cannot be fulfilled; I cannot turn back the clock, and what’s gone is not coming back. I //am// holding my best friend’s lifeless body. The ever growing circle is only getting bigger. I am here, but my aid is unneeded and pointless now. When she needed me most I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there at all. Robby is dead and there is no bringing her back. What if I had gotten here earlier? Could I have saved her life?

I’d like to fantasize that I am the hero but I am not. I am the murderer though I did not pull the gun. On silly argument just seems so grand now. Our last words were, “I hate you” or something of the like. The words are all quite fuzzy now. I never got my chance to tell her I loved her. She was my best friend and also had my heart.

 “Sir?” The paramedic says calmly resting a hand on my shoulder. “Son, we have to take her now,” the middle aged man continues when I do not respond.

I become enraged. I want to kill something. Anything. Instead of craving time, I know crave revenge. I will find this soul-less person and take them out.