“Watching a peaceful death of a human being reminds us of a falling star; one of a million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless night forever.”  

~Elisabeth Kübler-Ross


I feel a desolate chill suddenly sprinting up my spine. It whistles through the previously serene and deserted landscape. The cold is probably making my lips blue, but it’s tolerable kind- crisp and dry, not that nasty, humid type which drains away every bit of your body heat away and leaves you with a blocked up nose and a few sneezes.

Then again, that is most likely the only tolerable thing about this situation.

I feel my knees suddenly give way, body falling to the ground like a limp puppet which has just had its strings hacked off. I feel myself take a shuddered breath as the reality of what has just happened processes into my cranium. Onlookers stay silent, almost frozen by the scenario. It’s all so damn quiet.

“…No.”

Too quiet.

The snow is beginning to melt where my legs are pressed against it. It’s now soaking through the fabric of the trousers, and I’m sure it will become horribly cold within the next few moments.

And yet, strangely enough, I can’t care less. The numbness of it all makes me feel even more disconnected from both the cold and the world than I was to originally begin with, so the development isn’t too devastating.

He’s just a few feet away. His eyes are now almost closed, their usual colour glazed over. Snowflakes noiselessly drop from the heavens, shrouding his unmoving body, his crimson blood slowly seeping into the ground, turning the usual, clean white colour into a mush of red and alabaster.

The world stands still as I find myself crawling towards his limp body, softly calling his name. Nothing of this scenario feels real; as if what had just happened is some sick fairytale. I flinch as I finally hear someone walking towards us, the sound of the boots compressing the pearly ground shattering the otherworldly quiet.

It was him. Grinning like a cat that just got the cream.

I don’t want to look at his smug face, but I can feel his scathingly bright sky-blue eyes beat down upon us with the fierce expression of a predator that had just caught prey. So, I choose to glare at the weapon he’s been carrying by his side, the top of it still smoking from the shot it had fired less than a few minutes ago.

He drops into a crouch, his black trench coat drooping down much to the likeness of a cape behind his body. My breathing suddenly decides to hop into overdrive. Is he going to shoot me, too? He has no real reason to keep me alive; I am enemy of the ‘Revolutionary Nation’ party and have caused the man more than enough trouble. Getting rid of an annoyance such as I suddenly becomes all too tactical.

I look down at the snow as I brace myself for the worst. Has it always been this pristine colour?  It’s so bright, it actually kinda hurts to look at.

Hey, a gunshot isn’t a bad way to go! …He had fallen to the ground in an instant; screaming in pain, of course, but had gone quickly. Perhaps… It wouldn’t be all too bad.

Well, of all things to expect, I certainly don’t expect what actually happens next.

“He’s dead, boys. Come over, guys you will have to decide who’ll get the honour of dragging him all the way back.”

There’s this annoyed set of mumbles that emanates from the crowd of uniformed men. No! I feel a surge of panic run through me; I don’t want them to take him away! They don’t deserve to come close to him! Not after what they’ve put us through, not after what he has gone through. He, never in a million years, deserved to die in the way he had, and certainly not to be taken away by these horrid monsters that labelled themselves as ‘people’.

I’m about to grip his unmoving arm and refuse to let them budge either of us, but my arm is stopped before it even touches him. A gloved hand snatches at my wrist and is refusing to let go, not that I put up much of a fight.

I finally look up to find him staring at me with those piercing eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but shakes his head softly; his curled, light blond locks bouncing slightly as he does so. It’s now a strange moment, he’s staring at me, examining into what was probably a now dirty face that was red and puffy from the hot tears I feel trailing down my cheeks. This is all wrong. I want to yell and scream how much I hate, loathe and absolutely detest him. I want to strangle him and kick him and hurt him until he dies in the snow.

But…

I can’t.

I hardly notice them come over and drag him away, but when I do, I’m too numb to move. He finally decides to let go of my wrist, and the lack of the strong grip forces gravity to take its toll and push it to the ground.

He stands up, straightening his black collar. I’m going to be left here, to die alone on this cold ground. I’m now sure of it. It would save him a bullet or two, and there was no way I’d ever make it back civilization on my own.

I shiver, staring at the snow gently fall over the print that his fallen body had created in the snow. Soon there’d be no evidence either of us were ever even here, not that anyone would ever come looking for either of us.

To think, all this time, I’ve been trying to be strong. To support him and make sure that he saw that he was travelling with a friend he could depend on. I know he thought that I probably wasn’t the most dependable ally, however, I… I always tried to show him that I could pull through. But all that was nothing more than a stupid façade. Maybe, if I had really been strong, this would have never happened.

“Hey, you.”

I glance up, shocked. The harsh, thickly accented tone practically shooting straight through me like a bullet, but of sound.

“Yeah, you.” The man sniffs as he looks intently at my expression. He draws his gloved hand back down, offering to help me up, much to my surprise. “We’re going. Come on.”