Pain seared through my abdomen. I’d never been stupid enough to stick my hand in fire before. However, as heat pulsed through my senses I had to imagine that this was the closest comparison. Hot blood poured from my gaping wound. I clamped my hand down over top of it in a vain attempt to stop its flow. As if in defiance, it streamed over my paling fingers and down my arm. I started to slide down the tree I’d been backed up against. My dress caught on the bark on my way down. Then I stopped sliding as the knife caught me once more, in the chest this time.
A gasp tore from my throat. It sounded far off and foreign to me. Like it had come from a long ways away. My heart pounded in my chest and ears. Each pump it made forced more blood from my body. I could feel it leaving me. That’s when the realization, sharper than any knife, hit me. This was to be my last moment of life.
Why was this happening? I opened my mouth to speak. To ask him that question. No sound came though. Just another horrible gasping noise. I’d trusted him…
This didn’t make any sense.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. A fog started to close in. It folded over my mind and lay like a heavy blanket.
I was supposed to be going home. I needed to tell him. He had to know. Now, however, I was dying in the middle of the forest.
I hit the ground with a dull thud. All my strength fled from me. I couldn’t get up no matter how hard I tried. My legs just wouldn’t work. Coldness crept across my body, starting my fingers and toes and slowly reaching inwards. The blood coated, my blood, knife dropped to the ground beside me. One thought pushed it’s way through my pain addled brain as I slipped sideways.
I hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye…