Blaam!" a shot rings in the alleyway.
A scream behind him. "Jonathon! No!"
Pain is instant. Jonathon stumbles to the side, and crumples to ground. He rolls over back against the cold brick wall. He feels the dampness of the rain already beginning to soak through his jeans, but there is nothing he can do about it. The burning ache has already begun to emulate from his stomach, and is now spreading throughout his body. He feels his blood from the bullet wound pulse under his shirt. He does his best to hold it there; and hold his life inside him.
He tilts his head back. The alley light above is blinding.
Jonathon wonders about the thief. He tries to focus, but a dark haze forms at the corners of his vision. He is losing it.
He should have stayed put, but his ingrained sense of chivalry had pushed him to take up the chase.
Annette. She had run after them. They met tonight at Nightingales. She was on the balcony, looking over the crowd. Their eyes met, and she gave him a shy smile. They laughed and talked for hours about school, and their plans for the future; even the possibility of a future together. All in fun of course, but he believed there was some truth in that.
They were outside the club, when the thief grabbed her purse. Jonathon immediately sprinted after him. He knew the alley was a dead end. The thief turned and pulled a 9mm on him.
So this was it. No heroics, no dramatic death speeches. Just a dark haze pulling him backwards.
He thinks he hears voices. Faint at first. Then a shout.
He hears a gurgling sound. It is raining hard now. The gurgling sound stops abruptly, and it blends into the sound of rainwater running into the drain in the alley.
A thump. The haze is getting darker; it is pulling him backwards. Jonathon tilts his head from side to side to see where the noises are coming from.
Someone is standing in front of him. The silhouette is unmistakable. It is Annette. She approaches him slowly. He sees she had been crying.
"Jonathon." She whispers.
She kneels before him. It is getting more difficult to focus.
"Annette...I..." His breath comes in short gasps.
Was it love? It didn't matter now, but sometimes you know.
Annette stares at him. Tears run down her face. Jonathon reaches with his free hand to graze her cheek. His hand feels so heavy. She reaches up and touches his hand. Her lips are trembling. It is harder to focus.
"Goodbye... Annette..." He was falling fast.
The haze rushes in, and the last thing he can see is that Annette is smiling. In the haze her face appears to be pointed. The darkness pulls him back, and it pulls her face down with it. Even her beautiful smile appears to be pointed...
"See you soon Jonathon..." her voice echoes down to him, as he falls.
