“One cut, two cut, my cut, your cut. Your blood, my blood, our blood is red, inside me now till we are dead. Inside me, inside you, our blood is our promise, it will be true,” we finish our sing-song together.
It seems like there is only a moment or two of silence after our song ends. Both of us looking at our bloody union, before we look up at each other. No doubt my face matches Hunters. His eyes are huge, full of his happiness, surprise, and shock that we actually did it.
The quiet afternoon is broken as we peel into nervous, relieved laughter at what we just did. Trying to keep our giggles quiet, in case Hunter’s mum's super-sonic hearing finds us, but it only makes our giggling worse, until Hunter suddenly focuses on my bloody hand.
The smile falls instantly from his face as he focuses on my still bleeding cut. His attention seems to reignite the pain that starts zinging through my arm again, from my hand to my elbow, it stings. I cower, pulling my wounded hand away, but he stops the movement with a growl before ripping his t-shirt with his teeth and bandages our palms together.
“Can you feel it, Gigi? I am inside you now. Don’t ever forget that,” Hunter surprises me by snarling.
“Are you angry at me….why?” I ask looking at him, confused.
“Cause I have to go. I don’t want to. I want to stay here, and it’s all your fault that I can’t,” he says, his anger gone between one-second and the next.
“No, it’s not. It’s not my fault. It’s your stupid mum’s,” I reply quicker.
“Hunter, you have three-seconds to get back from that little bitches house,” his mum squawks again.
“Is she calling me that word Hunter?” I ask, feeling sick in my stomach.
“Yep!” he says, a smirk over his grubby face.
“Why?” I demand.
“She is just jealous because I love you so much and I tell her every day!” he yells to the sky, before we both start laughing uncontrollably again, falling into the dust and bloody ground, kicking up our bare feet.
Laying there, covered in grime, the sun beating down on us, we ignore his mum for as long as we can. We interlace our fingers on our bleeding hands, my cut throbbing in pain against his palm but Hunter’s happiness, his stories of what we will be doing tomorrow make it all fade away. Watching the clouds drift by, we swap naughty jokes, figure out stupid dares for tomorrow and talk nonsense to each other endlessly.
“Your father is home Hunter, if he catches you he will tan your scrawny butt!” his mother yells again before the back door of his house slams shut.
Hunter sits us up, staring at me intently as he unbinds his shirt from our bloody handhold. He quickly glances at me, before he trails his dirty finger over my palm, through my still weeping cut. The movement causes pain to ricochet back through my arm and I look into his face in question. His eyes are locked on mine, a peaceful smile on his face.
“Don’t you forget Gigi, you will always be a part of me now,” Hunter says as he starts running through the tall grass. I roll on my tummy with a huge smile on my face and watch him disappear.
If I knew that it was going to be the last time I saw him for years, I would have followed him. I would have stopped him from running away. I would have told him I really, honestly believed in our promise.
