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In her profession, she sees blood very often. It’s something she’s had to grow accustomed to, though it always did make her queasy. Never did she think… never did she expect that she would ever draw the blood of another, that she would intentionally and willingly hurt another person. She went into the medical field to save other people, to help. To do whatever she could to keep others smiling. To think that she would…. that she would….
No, she thinks. I can’t do it. I can’t pull the trigger. But the alternative was worse, wasn’t it? If she just stood back and waited, Phi would… she couldn’t let that happen, either. Sigma’s words had made some sense – there was just as good of a chance of him living as there was of him dying. But if she did pull the trigger, and it wasn’t a blank… it wouldn’t be sitting idly by, waiting for flames to claim her friend. It would be murder. She… would kill him.
Her hands were shaking. She always used to have steady hands, but fear had clawed its way down her throat and struck her from within, causing tremors throughout her body. She was scared.
Trust me. Sigma says.
Don’t do it. Phi is pleading.
She listens to Sigma, and pulls the trigger.
The first thing she hears is the gun. It’s loud… louder than anything she’d ever experienced. For a moment, it’s all that she hears. Her ears ring with the sound of an explosion, the singing of a bullet through the barrel. The next thing she hears is Phi. Screaming, yelling, crying at her. Murderer. It’s true. She was. Her eyes catch a glimpse of the scarlet strewn about the walls and floor; the viscous liquid which was once coursing through a living body painted a picture of death. A testament to her sin, her decision. Her choice. Moments ago there was a breathing person sitting in that chair, talking to her, telling her to trust him. Now it was simply a corpse, wearing the face of someone she once knew.
Phi finally calmed herself, tears still flowing, but she was quiet, unable to find anything more to say. Diana was silent, too – she couldn’t fathom what had happened. What she had done. To take another’s life… to steal away that which was sacred, that which belonged to no other, that which she had devoted her career to protect… to rob someone of that life… how could she? It wasn’t her choice to make. She could not be judge, jury, and executioner for another person’s soul. Yet she… she still pulled the trigger. How could she live with herself, knowing this? In a daze, she felt herself drop the gun, and it clattered to the ground. Her hands were shaking.
Seconds, minutes, hours seemed to pass, she wasn’t sure. It felt like they were there for an eternity, waiting for death to claim them as well, perhaps. Or perhaps it was a childish ideal that kept them paralyzed – that maybe, if they stayed, Sigma would awaken and spout some silly pun or witticism, and they would all be together again. They would all be safe. This isn’t the case, obviously. He doesn’t rouse, he doesn’t say anything. They aren’t together. They were fractured, a broken picture with a piece missing. Diana finally looked at Phi, her blue eyes containing a thousand mixed emotions, all her inner turmoil just barely visible. Phi… she glanced back, meeting her gaze. She looked tired.
Diana couldn’t bear the silence any longer. They were waiting, amidst a blood covered body, waiting for someone to move, or to say anything. So she did. Or, so she tried, at least.
‘ phi… ’ there’s a pause. ‘ do you… hate me? ’
There is no verbal response. Phi simply walked over to her, and wrapped her arms around her. Finally, the truth of the matter hits her, and tears begin to well and slip down her cheeks. She was crying for Sigma, for his death, and for Phi, for her forgiveness. It was as though there was a part of her that she never knew existed, and it had been taken from her. Something that was precious, irreplaceable. A certain part, filled of love and kindness… and it was gone.