Page 54 of Insurgent

“Hey,” I say. He looks at me, his eyes wide.

“Bex, I don’t want to die,” he says, his chest heaving.

“You’re not going to.” I grab my phone from my pocket, quickly dialing 911, rambling off my address and what happened. “Hurry. Please, hurry,” I beg, hanging up. I sniff, rubbing my nose before I stand and grab some towels from under the counter. Glass crunches beneath my feet as I hear sirens in the distance. “They’re coming,” I say, applying pressure to some of the gunshots.

Blood comes out of his mouth. “Bex,” he says.

“Samuel.” I start to cry. “You’re going to be okay.”

He grips onto my hand. “I love you,” I say. “I love you so much. You mean so much to me. Our life together has been all I could have asked for. It’s always been you, Samuel.” I stare into his eyes, wanting him to know that I mean what I say. I become the best fucking actress of all time, just so he doesn’t leave this earth thinking anything other than what I’m telling him.

He looks at me as I squeeze his hand. His eyes dance over my face, and then like a light losing its glow, my husband’s life vanishes before me as his head slouches and his eyes lose focus.

“No, no, no, no.” I bow my head, resting it against his. “Don’t leave me.” I wrap my arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably. My whole body quakes, my soul bleeding as I kiss his face and hands. I see the lights from the ambulance reflect off the walls of the shop and people run in here.

“Miss?” a man says to me.

I look up. “It’s missus,” I reply. I look back down at my best friend. The one who did everything he could to try to make me happy. “He’s gone. Oh God. He left…” My hands shake, covered in his blood. My ears ring, and my mind races.

“Ma’am, let us take care of this.”

“Take care of what?” I ask. “There’s nothing to take care of.”

“What’s your name?” A woman appears with kind eyes. Eyes like Samuel’s.

He’s so kind, so caring.

“Bexley O’Brien. This is my husband.”

My husband.

My sweet, handsome husband.

What happened?

“Mrs. O’Brien, are you hurt?”

I look down at my body, seeing his blood on my chest and arms. “I don’t think so.”

She gives me a small smile. “Good,” she says. “I understand this is difficult, but we need to get Mr. O’Brien out of here.”

I nod, looking down at him again. Memories of our life together flood my mind. We had it all. The friendship. The love. The loyalty. We laughed a lot. Life was easy with him, and now it’s over. He’s too young. We’re too young.

I kiss his cheek and forehead, moving back as someone comes in with a stretcher. I feel the glass cutting into my skin, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything.

My eyes go under the table and I see the bottle that was tossed in here. Tears river down my face in thick heartbreak. I stare at the floor they just lifted Samuel from.

My mind spaces, going as blank as a fresh sheet of paper. My heart freezes over. I don’t want to live in a world where he doesn’t. He was the one good thing. He was the good.

Blackness washes over my soul.

Who did this?

Why?

Did Samuel know I loved him?

Did he understand that he made my life better?

---