Jacob

• Ashleigh Donnison, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2009

Tears stream from my eyes as I rest my face in the cream coloured hospital bed. I raise my head and place it into my hands. I feel something cold take hold of my hand.
“Jacob,” I cry.
My face is dripping with tears. He wipes them away but they soon return, salty and as bitter as ever.
“It’s my fault,” I whimper.
“No,” he manages to say.
“I shouldn’t have blamed you,” I say shaking my head.
His fingers wrap around my hand firmly but lovingly.
“Natalie it’s not your fault,” he sooths.
“But I shouldn’t have left,” I cry.
He stays silent for a second. He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it softly. I want him to be well so much that I pray that god would save him. I feel my hand on his chest as it rises and falls. He smiles weakly. I want to be his strength. I want him to be well again so we can kiss on the beach, dance in the rain and tell him how much I really love him.

He soon falls asleep. I wonder how it came to this. How did all the pain get this far? I think back to the night after we had just had that particular fight. It was pelting down with rain and my makeup was running down my face. I could no longer tell which were tears and which were rain droplets. Only the bitter taste of salt and sorrow kept them apart. As I past an alley a dark figure came out. I felt his hands grab me. My head throbbed as I hit the stone cold ground. I felt pain through every inch of my body. I try to free myself but it only hurts more. I feel rough hands touch me all over my body as clothes are stripped off me. I have lost my voice and can’t scream out for help. I’m battered and bruised but some how I end up free of the body. Jacob is standing there holding the dark mans shirt. Fists collide with faces, blood runs onto the floor. Grunting echo’s through the alley. I pick up my scattered clothes and hold them up to my body. I see the man has a gun in his back pocket. Jacob is held against a wall and he is kicking ferociously. The man mutters some words and reaches for the gun. But it isn’t there, it’s in my hand. I hold it up shaking. He doesn’t let go of Jacob. I take in a deep breath, close my eyes and… he’s lying on the floor, a pool of dark blood flowing from his body. I hold onto Jacob tightly. Flashing lights of an ambulance fill the alley. Jacob places his hand on my cheek. Our lips touch. He is taken away, and I’m taken home. Emptiness fills me. I take in every moment, regret all the hurt and understand how much he loves me.