"Stay awake, Dorian!" he yells, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "Look at me! Don't you dare close your eyes!"
"I'm... tired, Dave," I murmur. My voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater.
"I don't care! Talk to me! Tell me about the house!" David shouts, his voice cracking. "Tell me about the goddamn house you found!"
The house. The image swims up through the gray fog clouding my vision. The brick colonial. The oak tree. The swing.
"It has... a swing," I whisper, a faint smile touching my lips.
"Yeah? That’s good. That’s great," David says, sounding terrified. He’s fumbling with his phone, dialing with one hand while steering with the other. "Flor! Dorian’s hit. It’s bad. I need you at the ER. And Flor… don’t call Della, yet."
Della.
The name sends a jolt through me, stronger than the pain.
"Call... call... to check on Della."
"She's fine, Dorian! You're the one who's not! Stay with me! Stay with me, man!"
I promised Della I’ll spend my life making her smile, loving her… I can’t break another promise to her. But looking down at my hand, I see the blood soaking through David’s jacket, pooling on the seat. The cold is creeping up my legs now, numbing the fire.
"David..."
"We're here! We're at the ER!"
The car screeches to a halt. The world tilts violently. The door is ripped open.
Noise explodes around me. Shouting. The squeal of wheels. Harsh, blinding white lights.
"Gunshot wound to the abdomen! Heavy blood loss! Get a gurney, now!" David’s voice is a roar, terrifying and fierce.
Hands grab me, lifting me and shifting me from the car seat to something hard and cold.
"I’ve got him," a stranger’s voice says. "Sir, can you hear me? Stay with us."
I try to nod, but my head lolls back.
The sky above is pitch black. No stars. Just the empty, indifferent void.
I’m being wheeled fast towards the entrance to the hospital looming ahead—a mouth of light ready to swallow me.
Time slows down. The noise fades into a hum.
My hand slips off the side of the gurney, hanging limp. A single thought pierces the darkness closing in.
I need more time with you, Della.
I want to show her the house and watch her face as she sees the swing. I want to live a life with her.
A single drop escapes the corner of my eye, tracking a hot path through the grime and blood on my cheek.
One last salty tear splattered on the cold pavement.
Then, the doors slide shut, and the world goes black.
* * *
Della
