I dream that Iâm falling into a red sea. My body plunges into the depths, seduced by gravity. Down, down, down.
I scream but liquid fills my lungs. I will sink to the bottom. I wonder whatâs at the bottom. What lies at the end of everything?
A sharp pain incinerates my nerves through the darkness.
My eyelids jerk upward. Light floods my vision. Creamy walls, a hallwayâ¦Iâm still outside Gabrieleâs apartment.
A shadowy figure approaches me. My chest feels so uncomfortable like thereâs a shard of glass stuck inside it. My gaze reaches down to my fingers which are stained red. Blood is pooling under my floral blouse, changing the color of the pink roses to maroon.
Cinnabar. Vermillion. Carmine.
Why am I recalling all the shades of red paint right now? Oh, I suppose itâs because red is one of my favorite hues.
A choked sound knifes through my throat but thereâs no air. None at all. I canât breathe. Did the bullet pierce my lungs? Am I going to die?
More than anything, I feel like Iâm slowly choking. The worst part is, I canât tell how much of that is due to the bullet lodged in me and how much of it started when Gabriele told me heâd never see me again.
My bones closed around the softness of my hopes and dreams for us as he tore them apart.
I guess itâs what I deserve for being a burden to him.
My gaze pulses between bright spots of light and darkness. I canât even see the face of the man who shot me. Who is he? What did I do to him? Why does everybody hate me?
âFrancesca, donât move.â The intoxicating pitch of Gabrieleâs voice ruptures my rambling thought bubble. âDammit! Youâve been shot.â
Gabrieleâs huge body appears in front of me. His arm is raised. The shiny body of a gun is wedged between his fingers. Without wasting a single moment, he pulls the trigger. Two gunshots shatter the silence.
The shadowy figure before me crumples. Gabriele goes over to him, steps on his hand, and removes his weapon. He says something but I canât hear what.
Oh my god, Itâs all happening so fast. I canât make sense of anything.
âDonâtâ¦â I strain my throat. My chest is about to split open. ââ¦kill him. Okay?â
Gabrieleâs at my side in a heartbeat. âI promise. Baby, now stop talking.â
His coat lands on top of me, though it barely does anything to stop the blood from flowing. Thereâs too much blood, too much of it.
Gabrieleâs on the phone now, talking to someone in an angry, scared tone. I hope itâs not the hospital. My limbs are failing. I donât think they can save me now.
I may not live much longer.
âIâm sorry. This is my fault. I thought I could protect youâ¦but I failedâ¦â His forehead is bowed against mine. I never imagined Iâd see big, bad Gabriele Russo crying but heâs bawling out his eyes right now. âFrancesca, donât you dare die or Iâll never be able to forgive myself. Are you listening? Donât close your eyes, Francesca. Donât give up. You have to live so I can earn your forgiveness.â
My brainâs hazy. It hurts too much to keep my eyes open so I close them. It hurts too much to live so I hope the pain disappears soon.
Pain becomes numbness. Numbness becomes sleep. My life is draining out of me.
This isnât how I imagined my demise would look like. But itâs so much better. I get to die in the arms of the man I love.
The only tragedy is that heâll never know I loved him.