Page 3 of Finding Hope

She’d captivated me.

After a little while, she had ventured out to the cafeteria to eat lunch instead of hiding away alone. And as is typical in every school across the country, there will always bethoseguys. The kind with small dicks that pick on the small people to make themselves feel big.

Steph may as well have hung a sign around her neck,‘Kick me, I don’t mind.’These guys tried to pick on her; well, mostly they tried to talk to her.

Maybe they saw what I saw. Maybe they thought her beautiful.

Maybe they wanted to get to know her like I did, but as tactless as most sixteen and seventeen-year-old boys tend to be, they were loud and obnoxious.

Steph needed calm and quiet.

But that was fine by me, because their tactless assesfinallylanded her in my lap, so to speak.

I rode in on my white horse, stood behind her and gave the guys the beady eye, then I swooped down and swept her off her feet.

Or more accurately, I developed a speech impediment and she took pity on me.

She had a gift for seeing the best in everyone, and though I was big and gruff and scary, lived in a frat house of sorts with a bunch of my brothers and sisters and no mature adults in a twenty-mile radius, and Iclearlywasn’t someone a mom would choose for their shy daughter, Steph still smiled and shared her lunch.

I might’ve lied and said I had none, simply because I knew her compassionate heart would take pity.

I had no shame in my Stephanie game.

“Sir.” Hands try to push me back. White gloves. Blue uniforms. Noise and pain. Real life and shattered glass. “Sir! Move out of the way.”

I shrug the hand away and refocus on Steph’s fluttering eyelids.

It’s like we’re back home and she’s dreaming. Like we’re in our room as the light filters through lace curtains while she lies on her belly and her hair smothers us both.

“Wake up, baby. Don’t go to sleep.”

Beautiful, hazel green and golden specked eyes meet mine. A single tear spills over and breaks my heart. She opens her mouth to speak, but more blood spills out.

“It’s okay.” I brush her hair aside with shaking hands. “Just rest, baby. Don’t try to speak.”

“But–” Her body convulses and blood bubbles up and stains my shirt as she chokes.

“It’s okay! Shh.” My heart thunders with panic. “I love you, Steph. I love you, okay?”

She nods weakly.

“And you love me,” I cry. “I know. I know that’s what you wanna say.” A tear slides along my nose and drips onto her blood smudged cheek. “It’s okay. Just rest, baby. We’ll make you all better. Just hold on.” I shuffle bare inches to the side to let the persistent gloved man into our space. He slaps an oxygen mask over her face, but the blood continues to escape her fragile body. “You’ll be okay. Just stay awake and let them help you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry we said mean things. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Clamoring for oxygen, my lungs heave and claw at what little air there is left in the universe. Dots swim in my vision, but when Steph’s eyes close for the last time, as her hand squeezes mine then falls limp; when the paramedic shouts time of death and informs me he’ssorry, and when they take her oxygen mask away and slide a sheet over her white face to keep the busybodies at bay – as my life falls apart around me – my chest caves in on itself to the point I’m strangled and cannot catch my breath.

The dizziness and darkness try to overtake my body, but like a beacon of hope – a higher power or some kind of sign – I turn to my left and find a bleeding, staggering man in handcuffs by a black police cruiser.

Letting out a roar and springing to my feet like the young, fit athlete that I am, I turn to sprint for him.

I’m going to kill him. He deserves to die.

He took Stephanie, so he deserves to die.

But like the universe just isn’t done with me yet, she gives me the smallest taste of hope, then she swiftly takes it away. I don’t make it more than four feet before I eat the road and fall into the darkness.

This is fine, too. I can go with my love. She’s bringing me with her and that’s fine.

I don’t want to be where she isn’t anyway.

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