Page 75 of Bleeding Hearts
“Three.”
“Because really, I have nothing else to lose. I died a long fucking time ago.”
“Two.”
“Lals.” Alice panics.
“One,” I mock as I turn the gun to face me and pull the trigger. He flinches, and I laugh as I throw it back in the box. “Not so tough after all.”
He stares at me, and I stare back. “Going to kill me? Ah, that wouldn’t be part of the game though, would it? Got to have a good show, right?” I blow into his mask. “I’ll be seeing you soon.” I turn and sit as they move to Teresa.
Alice stares at me, her face pale.
“What? Like I can let you have all the fun,” I scoff.
Teresa draws our attention, looking at us then back at the gun. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Five,” the wrangler begins.
“T, don’t,” Poppy begs, but Teresa lifts her hand and grips the gun, pressing it to her forehead. She glances at Poppy, and for a moment, a million unsaid things flow between them, private things that make me feel weird for even being here, and then she pulls the trigger.
Nothing happens, and she slumps as she lays the gun in the box, and the wrangler moves to Poppy. I try to count . . . to think. It could keep going. Lord, forgive me, but I hope it doesn’t.
That makes me a terrible person, but it’s true.
Poppy takes the gun, weighing it in her hands for a moment before she looks at Teresa. “I need you to know that I love you. I know we never said it, both of us too scared, but I do. I love you. You’re the person I imagine my future with, and I’m sorry I was always too worried about losing you to say it.”
“Poppy—” Teresa reaches for her.
Poppy glances at the empty seat and the body still lying behind it, then she lifts the gun. “No, don’t, we can find—” The trigger is pulled, the shot loud as Poppy falls forward and hits the table, the gun falling from her limp hand.
Teresa’s horrified screams fill the air, ragged and never-ending.
Teresa drags Poppy into her embrace, gripping her head. “I love you. I love you too. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I was scared too. I’m not anymore. Can’t do this without you.”
As the wrangler turns away, Teresa leans in and kisses Poppy’s lips, and something inside me tightens. “Teresa, don’t—” I say, but it’s too late.
She snatches the gun at the wrangler’s waist, presses the barrel to her head, and pulls the trigger. Her limp body crumbles over Poppy’s.
The wrangler turns, grabs another gun from his boot and aims it at us, but we are silent.
She killed herself.
She killed herself to be with the one she loves.
My gaze turns to Alice, and I know I would do the same. If she were to—no, I can’t even think it.
“It’s over,” Alice whispers as she takes my hands. “It’s over, Lals.”
“Why doesn’t it feel like it’s over?” I mutter as the wranglers line up. My heart soars, only to be crushed. The doors don’t open, and the windows stay locked.
“Let us go! You said three rounds!” someone yells.
“They aren’t letting us go,” I murmur.
“Due to spiteful whispers, we will have a bonus round!” the voice calls, and in unison, the wranglers clap. Each one makes me jerk with their thunderous sound.
My eyes scan the crowd before I look at Alice. “They are weeding us out. They are punishing us for our disobedience.”
