Hemingway's Creed

CHAPTER REVEAL

Warm, sticky blood seeps from my body, trailing down my exposed flesh. I groan in pain as I lie on the cold, wet beach. I can feel my life—and my unborn child’s—slipping away with each drop oozing from my wounds. My throat aches from where they choked me until I lost consciousness. It was their final act before leaving me here to die.

I look up at the sky, the sound of ocean waves crashing against the rocks in the distance filling the air. The surf washes over the sand as the tide comes in, and I feel the water creeping over my feet.  I’m not going to make it, and that would be okay with me. I don’t think I could live with the weight of my loss or the betrayal to the man I love.

I came to as they walked away. They assumed I was dead, but I wasn’t. Not yet, at least. Blood loss, stab wounds, broken bones—by all accounts, I should be dead.

I want to be dead.

As I lie here, I remember the day Reed got on his knee and proposed to me on this very beach. That’s why I came here tonight. I wanted to remember that day. I miss him so much. I’ve been so wrapped up in my emotions lately that I needed to remind myself that him being gone is only temporary.

I know he would have been happy with my news. We would have made a life for ourselves, even if both of our parents didn’t want this for us. My foster parents and best friends constantly lectured me on being safe.

Safe?

That’s a stupid thought. I wasn’t safe, no matter what. Being safe didn’t save me from this. I shouldn’t have come out here after dark. I should have listened to Rika when she warned me it was too dangerous. Our small town has been growing, and with it, the violence that comes with growing pains.

Now, it doesn’t matter. I let the waves and memories wash over me as I wait for death to take me. I just hope and pray that Reed doesn’t blame himself, that he can learn to move on. I want him to have a new life. A life where he’s happy and married to a woman who will protect his child. He’ll make an amazing father. He has the biggest heart.

I’ve loved him since we were kids. He was my first kiss, my first lover, and the man I gave everything to. As I lie here in my final moments, I know I was loved beyond measure. Isn’t that what all people want? To be loved so completely that, in the end, they aren’t scared?

I’m not.

I’m ready to die.

“Blythe,” Sam shouts.

I try to respond, but my vocal cords won’t cooperate. I try to raise my hand so Sam will know where I am, but no matter how hard I focus, my arms won’t move.

“I found her,” Oliver, Sam’s dad, yells. “Oh, dear God, call an ambulance.” Something wet plops on my face, and when a shadow falls over me, I realize Oliver is crying. “We’ll get you help, sweetheart,” he says and touches my shoulder.

The contact is like a jolt of shock to my system, the pain too much to bear, the fear that he might hurt me too. I know it’s irrational. I’ve known Oliver since I was a small girl. He’d never harm me. But I’m still scared of his touch. Of any touch.

I wish I can tell them to let me die, to tell Reed that I love him, and that it’ll be okay for him to go on with his life. But all I can do is lie here, slowly bleeding to death.

Sam takes my hand, and I jerk and cry out from his touch. I force myself to calm and squeeze his hand, hoping he’ll understand what I’m trying to say. He’s always been more of a big brother to me than a best friend. Both he and Rika have been my closest friends for years.

When my eyes close and my hand goes slack, Sam cries out. “Don’t do this, Bly,” he begs me. “He won’t forgive me for not protecting you. He’ll never be the same.”

It’s out of my control. I drift off to a place where I don’t feel the chill anymore. I don’t feel the pain or loss.

I’m free.

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