At last | Editing

Chapter 24

As soon as I shut the door, I want to open it and pull Amarillo in my arms and take back what I said, but I know that you can't get back are The stones after it's thrown, The occasion after it's missed, The time after it's gone, and The words after they're said. So, I continue down this hallway searching for my fr... Amarillo's friends and any survivors.

All I've come across are the deceased victims, all workers, women, and...

Oh, my gosh.

I've come across a little girl who looks to be no older than six. She's dark skinned and wears glasses. She has her hair styled in two pigtails. She's dressed in a colorful skirt with matching long knee-high socks and some sketches. She has a blue jean vest on top of her white turned blood red T-shirt.

She took a bullet to her chest; it went in and out.

She lays there next to the check-in desk, she's still breathing but her breaths are shallow. I can tell she doesn't have much time, but I couldn't try to save her.

"My mom...." She says in between breaths. "Is my mom okay?" She gestures to the body behind the desk.

There's a female lying flat on her stomach behind the desk with blood gushing out from her forehead. Her eyes are looking directly at me and it's creepy, I think I even have seen her moved. That must've been all in my head because she had no pulse when I grasp her wrist and checked.

I crawl back over to slow the little girl whose laying in her own pool of blood. I bite down on my bottom lip unsure on rather or not, to tell the truth.

"I, um.... she's uh..." I fumble with my words.

She rubs my cheek with her bloody hand. She looks at me in the eyes and says, "It's okay. You can tell me. I'm a big... I can take it." She nods her head and assures me as she removes her hand from my cheek leaving a blood print behind.

I can barely look her in the face so I just shake my head yes. She sighs.

"It's okay. At least I know I'm not going to be put into foster care like most kids my age who lose all three of their parents and get left in this world with nobody to love them because I'll be dead soon too." sadness in her voice.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Why?"

"I want to address you by your first name and not by you know.... 'little girl' or 'kid'." I air quote.

"Oh. My name is Alyssa...Alyssa English. What's yours?" She asks.

"I'm Naomi Satchel. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

"This is all your fault, you know." My subconscious reminds me.

"....All your fault, you know."

"....All your fault, you know."

I hear her words repeat over and over again in my head. I don't know how to turn it off. So, I squeeze my eyes shut hoping that that will make her and her negative comments go away.

"....If you would've just listened to your father with he told you Christian was no good, we wouldn't be here right now." But of course, she continues.

"...This innocent little girl would not be on the brink of seeing what happened after you die."

I continue to keep my eyes squeezed shut right, rocking back and forth hoping that it will block out the extra noise.