Death; peaceful, but heartbreaking. Robbie was limp in my arms. My tears splashed onto his face as I began CPR. I had done everything I could think of to save him. I tied my scarf above the gunshot wound on his leg as tight as I could and elevated his leg, but my darling Robbie was slipping from life’s grasp into the clutches of death. The shooter was running away. I wanted to chase him but I couldn’t leave Robbie. I called the ambulance as Robbie’s eyes rolled back in his head. I kept doing CPR. Suddenly he came to and looked at me.
“Analise,” he whispered.
“I’m here. I’m here,” I said.
“Look in – in – in – p-p-pocket,” Robbie rasped, struggling to breathe. I digged around in his jacket pocket and extracted a small box. I opened the lid to find a gorgeous diamond ring.
“Oh, Robbie,” I whispered. I kissed him gently on the lips, but only for a second. I could hear the ambulance now, its screaming sirens piercing the still night air. Robbie smiled before his eyes rolled back into his head again. I screamed and began CPR for the second time. People were beginning to come out of their houses to take a look.
“Help me!” I screamed at them, trying even harder to revive my darling. One woman came over and took me in her arms while her husband took over the CPR. The ambulance screeched to a stop beside us along with two police cars. The ambulance officers began to revive Robbie. I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
“We’re losing him,” one paramedic said.
“Charge to two hundred,” said another. “Clear!”
I saw Robbie’s chest rise and fall back to the ground.
“Charge to three hundred.”
Everything after that was a blur. Flashing lights, people standing there, not helping my darling and when the woman tried to move me, blackness engulfed my mind, my very soul. I could feel myself falling, but I wanted it, I wanted the terror and despair stay far above me while I was falling, for it to go away.