Prompted by: Kevin
I can’t believe that I actually survived. Truth be told, I can’t be certain that I have quite yet. I might not make it through the night. I might be dead before morning. But regardless, it’s finally over.
And I have won.
My throat is dry. The metallic taste of victory lingers on my lips. I lean heavily against the wall, propping what little remains of my broken body up against it. Because I can do nothing else.
I know my wounds are critical. Possibly even fatal. I know I require medical attention. Immediately. I know I’m about to lose consciousness. The sound of blood drops hitting concrete cuts through the silence. Deafening me. I know. But I can’t move.
I’m overwhelmed. Exhausted. Completely spent.
I see her. My angel. Her eyes lock with mine. Tender. Caring. But with the strength of an army. Unyielding. Fearless. She doesn’t smile. Instead, she offers me something else.
Slowly, she crosses the room. Kneels down. Presses her palm to my bare chest. Over my heart. Just to confirm that it’s still beating, however faint. Her fingertips are cool. And yet, her touch is warm. So very warm.
I open my mouth to speak.
She shakes her head. Reaches down. Tears a long strip from the hem of her dress. Gently takes my arm in both of her hands. Binds the ribbon of silk around my tattered limb. Of which, there’s not much left.
The white fabric soaks with crimson. Turns to scarlet.
All she says is, “I knew you’d come back.”
I close my eyes.
The battle is over.
What’s the prompt for next week, guys?
Make suggestions below. 7 words or less.