The Girl With the Blue Eyes

There was nothing for it. How could a girl so young and so beautiful die in a grimy, dusty factory? The clothes she wore were old and threadbare. She was homeless, and had been for a very long time. Her hair hung around her waist, unwashed and un-brushed for years. He heard her heartbeat fade, what to do? He was so alone in the life he detested.

“Please,” she whispered in a voice so weak and raspy it made his blood hurt. “Please.”

He stroked the lifeless blonde hair. “I can’t.”

A fresh tear streaked through the grunge on her cheek. How he came to feel so strongly for the girl with the blue eyes he never truly understood. All he understood was that he wanted to save her, and to save her, he had to let her end.

“It’ll be over soon,” he murmured, watching her eyes lose focus. Her eyelids were getting heavier, he knew. He knew all too well how it felt to die. “Soon.”

She lasted hours and well into the night.

“Just let go,” he told her gently.

“Please,” she repeated. “Now.” Her hands, blue with cold and black with bruises, went slack in his and he knew she was moments away. He sighed at the injustice of it all, taking off his coat and tucking it up to her chin.

“It’ll hurt,” he said, his voice and heart breaking. Dare he be so glad for company? He shut his eyes, blocked out the dying girl. When he opened them again, hers were closed. She was so young, so beautiful, so afraid. He leaned over her and kissed her forehead. She opened her dying blue eyes and there were no tears, only desperation.

“Don’t want to die,” she whispered.

He sucked in a breath. He hadn’t wanted to die either...Who was he to put this God forsaken, wretched existence on her?

“Yes. Yes, all right. It’s going to hurt.”

“Promise.”

“I’ll save you.” He lifted her wrist to his lips, kissed the thin skin, felt the soft pulse. “I promise.” She smiled as much as she could. He opened his mouth, slowly, and then lowered his teeth to the sweet flavour of her blood.


Our Father,
Who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
Thine will be done,
On Earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil,
For Thine is the kingdom,
The power, and the glory,
For ever and ever,
Amen.


She was still. It would begin soon, he knew. The horror of the pain. The regret. When she did begin to convulse and cry and gasp and writhe in sheer agony, he tried to make her as comfortable as possible. She was lying on top of one of his coats, and under the thickest. A sweater was in the shape of a pillow under her head. He sat by her, walked by her, watched for any change that said she was nearly ready to wake up.

Two days was all she took. He had taken four long, miserable days and nights. He was lying next to her, staring through the gaps in the roof at the stars and contemplating his pitiful existence. He had hunted for her and kept the body fresh on the other side of the factory. Her dark, thick eyelashes fluttered before opening, and she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek with lips soft as rose petals.

He prayed.