Run For Her Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
He needs her, but she doesn't need anything or anyone anymore. Will he be too late to change her mind and reveal his?

Submitted: August 05, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 05, 2008



My feet padded the ground, echoing in my head over and over and over and…

It stopped, I stopped, the world stopped. I took deep breaths, panting. I can’t rest, I told myself. I had to keep going. For her. Those simple words ripped the weary feeling from my stomach and the snatched away the faintness in my fast-beating heart. I was fully energized in less than a second. My foot kicked off the ground and I was running again. I flew past the people in the streets, not once looking into their curious eyes. She was waiting for me. I hope. The pessimistic thought made me run faster. No. She was fine, she was okay. I was going to save her, I would get there in time. The wind rushed past my ears echoing her words from earlier.

I can’t be saved, not anymore.”

My eyes stung and I ran faster, the pounding of my feet getting louder and louder with each stride. The wind grew louder too, and so did her words.

“Over my dead body,” I hissed out from my gritting teeth. This wasn’t the first time I had spoken those words, in contrary, those words had brought me to running. To flying. She had disconnected the line shortly after, allowing me to experience a minor heart attack. Or rather, what I thought to be one.

My eyes scanned to my left, a building that was all too familiar to me blocked my vision. I froze in mid-stride. I regained composure quickly, sprinting up the small stairway and through the door. I flew past the elevator and climbed the stairwell, not wanting to waste any time. I busted through the door for the third floor, startling a couple on their way to their room. I pushed past them, ignoring their surprised (yet angry) remarks. I searched the numbers as if my life depended on it, although someone else’s did. My body shut down as soon as the three gold-plated numbers reached my eyes. My breathing was heavy and sweat trickled down my face like rain. I raised a shaky fist, begging myself to be calm, as I gently knocked on the door. A light gasp reached my ears.

“Um…who is it?” Her voice was shaky, from crying most likely. My heart skipped none-the-less, bringing a sigh from my lips that she was okay.

“It’’s me,” I replied.

There was a silence and then a shuffle of feet across the room, louder and louder, until a thud hit the door. I flinched away, shocked.

“Get away from me!” she screamed. The couple from earlier looked on with curious eyes. I watched as he kissed her cheek and led her into their room. She was hesitant, but he soothed her enough to walk her into the room, giving me one last look before disappearing in her lover’s arms.

“Please, please let me in,” I pleaded, my attention focused on her soft sobs.

“I told you,” she hissed. “I told you I didn’t need you! I don’t want you!”

Her words stung for a fleeting moment before they went through the other ear, leaving me with enough sanity to continue.

“Please, if you don’t open this door right now, I’ll kick it down.” My voice was strained, but I couldn’t be more serious.

There was silence again and I heard feet shuffle away. I furrowed my eye brows and raised my foot. I threw it to the door and it came flying open. My eyes were blinded by fear as I ran in the room, slamming the door behind me as I stood aimlessly in front of her. She’s alive. I let out a sigh of relief, but sucked it back in as soon as I saw her condition. Not for long. Her hair was down and messy, obviously not well taken care of on her part, her once vibrant eyes were dull with grief and lost hope, her breath reeked of alcohol and makeup ran down her cheeks with a few tears. My throat released a whine, stepping a bit closer to her with my hands reaching out a bit. She flew herself backward, alert as always. She carefully reached behind her and held a 6” revolver in her frail hand. My eyes widened in horror as she began to raise the gun further up her body. Brushing past her rib-cage, then her chest, then her neck…

“Stop!” I yelled.

She did.

“Put the gun down,” I commanded softly. “Please, Grace.”

She flinched at the mention of her name. I had to lick my lips, trying to calm the tingle that stretched across them at the sensation of the way her name slipped from my lips. The gun loosened from her hand, but as soon as I stepped forward, her grip intensified. Her knuckles turned pale white from her grip on her gun, her fate.

“Please,” I all but whispered.

“No,” she moaned. “No, I can’t. I have to. You have to understand.”

“I given life too many chances. It’s over. I’m over.”

Pain struck through my chest. “Grace, you can find another way. Don’t solve it this way!”

At that statement, her hand raised the gun to the side of her forehead. She cringed as she dug it into her temple. Fear spiked to my heart. I only had one chance to save her. Only one. I began walking toward her, slow and cautious. She was shaking with nerves and her blood-shot eyes were wide with disbelief.

“Leave,” she told me, but I kept walking forward. “You don’t want to be here! I don’t want you to be here!” I continued on my path, unfazed by her words. She backed up until she was against the wall, trying to disappear within it’s hard exterior. “Leave!”

I finally reached her. She looked up at me, fear and shock reflecting in her eyes.

“Caleb…” she gasped. The flavor of the alcohol on her breath hit my nose like wildfire. I almost turned away at the scent, but got closer instead. My face was leaning into hers, our foreheads almost touching. “Why?”

I reached up to the hand that was holding the gun and grabbed it. I pulled with much unnecessary force, forcing the gun to touch both our heads at the same time. A choked sob sounded from her mouth, dry and raspy. “If you die…” I began. I let my hand loosened and I stroked hers with my thumb. I smiled at her, watching her eyes search mine. “…so do I.”

Neither of us moved. I brought my other hand up to caress her neck, stroking her tear-stained cheek with my fingers. A gasp emitted from her as a tear of my own grazed down my nose and onto hers. “Caleb…” I loved it when she spoke my name. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t,” I whispered, my lips barely touching hers.

“Please,” she spoke at the same volume. A shiver ran up my spine as her lips breathed nearly on mine. “Please, Caleb. Please, leave.”

I tightened my hold on her hand, digging the gun into our heads a little more. “If you die, I die. I understand why you’re doing what you’re doing, now you have to understand me.” I moved my unoccupied hand to tuck loose strands of her hair behind her ear and then moved it to rest behind her head, gently massaging it with my fingers. A soft sigh escaped her and I leaned my forehead in to touch hers.

“Why?” she asked.

I smiled. I leaned my lips to her exposed ear as if I was about to reveal a secret that I had kept hidden away for years. But in truth, that was I was doing. I was opening up a page of my thoughts that had never been opened, never been shown. I opened my mouth, letting out a breath. I felt her shiver beneath me and I smiled wider against her cheek.

“Because,” I whispered. I brought my face up to look in her eyes. I saw a sparkle somewhere deep inside her and I chose that moment to release the weight from my shoulders that I held for too long. “Because, Gracey.”

She waited, I waited. She closed her eyes and blinked the tears from her eyes. I kissed them away as they fell. “I love you.”

She sucked in a breath, just as I released mine. The gun fell from her grasp, clattering to the ground and she collapsed into my chest. I held her for dear life, crushing her in my hold. We crumbled to the ground together. I rocked her back and forth as she cried into my chest, right into my heart. I hushed her, choking reassuring words through my hidden sobs. She came up from the safety of my hold to look me straight in the eyes. Before I could act, her lips attacked mine. Grieve and passion flooded into me through her kiss, and I responded with just as much passion. She let go too soon.

“Caleb, you idiot,” she hiccupped, holding my face in her cold, small hands. “I love you too.”

I smiled and held her close to me, kissing the top of her head. I smiled as her cries and tortured screams came to a comfortable silence. My eyes reached the gun laying on the floor, the barrel open. My eyes widened and I held her tighter.

The barrel was empty.

“I’ve given life too many chances. It’s over. I’m over.”

© Copyright 2018 Yeux. All rights reserved.

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