This is exactly the opposite of the ending most people think of. |
The icicle hit home. Brittany heard a dull thud and slowly looked down at her chest. The frozen icicle was protruding out of her chest, right in the middle tearing her shirt and skin. Her blue eyes widened and she felt her back for the tip of the icicle. Brittany could feel the sharp point where it had gone through her, wrapping her fingers around that little point. Gasping, her face widened in horror as she brought her hands back so she could see them. They were dripping with shining red. Blood. Her blood. Time slowed as Brittany stumbled, not even trying to tear out the icicle. Boiling blood pounded in her ears, she couldn’t hear anything. She sunk to her knees, blinking stupidly at Silver. She stood with her hands on her hips, her legs spread shoulder length apart, with a wicked grin. Silver spoke, but Brittany didn’t understand what the heck she was saying. A large bang sounded and though Brittany didn’t hear it, she sure felt it. Silver whipped her head around to face the door, every perfect hair flying through the air with her, turning as if in a musical dance. Everything nice and slow. A figure flew out of the door, screaming, his arms flinging wildly, but he was coming way too late The damage was done. Silver glanced back at Brittany and smiled. Her pointed teeth snarled, her eyes glinting in the dim light, and her hands still dusted with frost. Then she ran for it. With one easy jump, Silver had cleared the figure and landed on the windowsill. She didn’t look back as she shouldered the window and jumped out through the floating shattering glass. A small piece caught the fading light and cast a rainbow on Brittany’s hand as it spiraled downward. Next, both Silver and the glass were gone and all that was left was the jagged edges of the smashed window. The bad guy had gotten away. Sam flew out of the door after Silver, not seeing Brittany lying on the floor. His head was flying sluggishly this way and that way, his hair dancing childishly on his blurred face. Brittany didn’t care. Her eyesight was even worse than she ever remembered it. Blackness was creeping up on the corners, shrinking her vision. Brittany whimpered and Sam tuned around in slow motion once again. His eyes widened at the sight of seeing Brittany lying there on the floor surrounded in her own blood with the icicle stuck in her chest. Then he saw Jake’s long dead body lying on the floor next to her. “No!” His mouth moved like he was screaming, but Brittany couldn’t hear him anymore. Sam ran to her side, screaming, shaking her frantically, begging her to not die. “Brittany, Brittany, please, listen. Brittany? Can you hear me Brittany?” Sam was on his knees, kneeling down next to Brittany. Her blood was soaking his pants, but he didn’t care. He could get new ones later. He just couldn’t get a new friend if she died now. Right in front to him. Brittany blinked, suddenly very tired. She couldn’t feel the pain anymore. Everything was going so slow, ever so slow. And I thought that the good guys were supposed to win, she thought, her eyes fluttering. I thought in plays, books and movies, the good guys always win. She chuckled, coughing blood. Sam watched as Brittany turned over, blood pouring out of her mouth, staining her blonde hair. She looked like she was in so much pain. “Brittany, please, listen to me! Don’t let go, please don’t die Brittany. Please don’t die.” Brittany shut her eyes for a minute, then they fluttered open again. She was going. Sam buried himself in her chest, the cold burn of the icicle on his cheek not fazing him. His body was racked with sobbing that was almost in in rhythm with Brittany’s raspy breathing. “ I love you Brittany! Do you hear that?! I love you! Please don’t leave me alone.” Sam sobbed, brushing Brittany’s hair out of her face. The pool of blood was bigger then it had been a few seconds ago. If she didn’t die from being stabbed in the heart, she certainly would from blood loss. Sam stared at her, tears blurring his vision. Brittany’s hands were to her sides and she was looking straight up, like she couldn’t hear him, or didn’t know he was there. Her eyes had such a blank look on them that Sam cried harder. He was losing her, like he had lost everything. She was just the last important thing he had to go. Sam picked her up and held her close. Her arms fell weakly to her sides, and her head lolled like a rag doll. He was speaking again. Brittany wished she could hear what he was saying. Wished she could at least tell him goodbye. Wished she had the energy to move her mouth to form those words. The bad guys aren’t supposed to win, Brittany thought, gasping for breath. Sam’s tears fell on her face, making up for the ones that were still stuck inside of her. Brittany’s head rolled again and she was looking at her hand. Weakling, she lifted her right hand to Sam’s face. Her hand was marble pale, and it shook so much that she almost couldn’t reach him, but she finally made it. Brittany brushed a lock of Sam’s hair out of his face. He jumped slightly, then peered down at her, tear-streaked face and all. Brittany’s hand collapsed to the ground. She peered back at Sam, right in the eyes. Then she gave him a weak smile. Just my luck that this plays director had a good sense of tragic endings. And the lights went out in the theatre. |