Memories From a Dead Girl

Blood dripped down the fabric of Austin's shirt and pooled along the tiled floor, into the cracks, staining them. His face was pale and his body was shaking, but he stood slowly. He reached for Chloe again, and she backed away. Then he wrapped one hand around the knife, his unoccupied hand on the counter now, and attempted to pull it out.

"You'll only bleed out faster," Chloe reminded him, her lips curling. "But you deserve this, for what you did to my sister."

"It was too late!" he cried, his voice coming out in gasps. "She would have died anyway."

"You don't know that," Chloe snapped. "But you left her to drown and you didn't even care! Why did you lie to everyone?"

Austin closed his eyes and growled, "You're not going to get any answers if I die."

My mouth twisted. I hated to admit that he was right.

"Talk fast then," Chloe answered.

"Why don't you get your dead sister to tell you what happened," he said.

"You don't have a lot of time."

"Damnit, bitch!" Austin shouted, finally opening his eyes. He gritted his teeth against the pain and quickly yanked out the knife. "Get me to the fucking hospital." His knees buckled and he pressed his palms against the counter top, breathing hard. "I'll tell you everything, but you need to hurry."

To my horror, Chloe reached for the phone and dialed 911. She told them there had been an accident, that she needed an ambulance. Then she helped Austin onto the couch, hissing, "You'd better not die," before she heard the wail of the sirens.