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Shakily, I grab at my stomach. My hands grasp at the handle of the knife – knife! – that is sticking out my abdomen. I don’t know what to do, I hadn’t even realised that the knife had gone in until I felt that sharp, burning pain. I know that I shouldn’t pull it out – doing so would most likely cause me to bleed out before I can call somebody for help – and the only help anywhere close by is the person standing right in front of me.
Her straight, black hair is getting lightly dusted by the snow that only now started to fall, her brown eyes are shimmering dark pools of contradictions, and she stands with her hands in the pockets of her pants. Her stance is casual, seemingly unaffected by everything that she has just witnessed, has just done. Like she hasn’t just stabbed somebody moments earlier.
“Louve!” I gasp out, the only word that I can even think of saying at that moment. It just repeats over and over it my head; Louve, Louve, Louve. I can hardly believe what has happened, I did not think that Louve could have ever done this to me. A small voice in my head whispers are you sure about that?
Louve just stands there, ignoring everything I have just said, just looking intently at the knife that is sticking out of me. What is she thinking? Did she do this on impulse? Or was she planning this all along, and I was foolish enough to come out here with her? But why else would she have had a knife? The sting of tears pricks at my eyes.
“Louve,” I whimper, again, at an absolute loss. What are you even supposed to do when someone you believed to be a friend stabs you with a knife? The shooting pain is making it hard to think, and Louve still isn’t talking. I can feel my breath becoming shallower and faster, and my eyes start to water. My hands, which still rested on the knife’s hilt, are trembling. “What –”
“Would you be quiet?” Louve snapped. She stalks toward my hunched figure, coming closer and closer and closer until I can see the green flecks in her eyes, the smattering of pale freckles on her cheek. I instinctively step back in fear, reluctant to have her anywhere close to my pale, vulnerable, shaking form. She just continues going and going and going until she reaches out and pries my fingers away from where they are tightly wrapped around the hilt, replacing them with her own. Then she pulls.
A punched-out gasp leaves my mouth, and my hands hastily fly back to my stomach. Warm blood streams out, staining my hands in it. It flows around my fingers and drips onto the ground, which now has a thin blanket of snow.
Drip, drip, drip, drip.
Louve’s face now twists in anger, her face becoming ugly in her rage. I never realised that her teeth are so sharp. “Why do you want to leave me? I’ve loved you so much and for so long, yet you still want to abandon me?”
I can’t answer, preoccupied with trying to not bleed out all over the floor. I have so much that I want to say, but I just can’t get the words out. Love, is that’s what this is? It certainly doesn’t feel like it.
Louve just continues talking, not caring that I am unable to answer the rant she had begun. “Veronica told me everything that you said. Honestly, I shouldn’t have been so surprised by what she told me.”
I shouldn’t have told Veronica anything, flashes through my mind, filling me with regret. I should have remembered the fact she is also friends with Louve, one of her closest, but I just wanted to get all of my feelings off of my chest, and she was the only one that had offered to listen. Veronica is going to feel so guilty when she finds out that Louve killed me. My legs are getting shaky, and it is not just caused by the blood loss.
“She told me that you said you didn’t want to talk to me anymore, that you find me creepy.” Louve rolls her eyes and laughs, as if she thought everything that she is saying is absurd. “At first, I was confused, how could you of all people think that of me? We have known each other for so long, after all. But then I remembered how started you acting in, when was it? Oh, around the end of year 10, wasn’t it?”
I can remember it, the end of last year. I had decided to stop hanging out around Louve so much because so many of the things that she had been saying had made me too uncomfortable, the toxicity that her presence demanded was too exhausting. This didn’t work for long, and soon I was in her fold again, which is obvious with the events currently going on.
Louve shook her head and throws one of her hands up in the air, “It was because I kept on mentioning how we dated it the past, wasn’t it? Honestly, you were making such a big deal about nothing, the whole thing was so stupid. I thought you got over the whole thing, but clearly, I was wrong. And then you made a big deal of it with Veronica, and now look at the mess we are it. It’s all your fault.”
This whole thing isn’t my fault, is it? It is Louve’s. She is the one that stabbed me, did this to me.
“And now look at you! You’re going to bleed out and die and there is nothing that either of us can do about it. I loved you first. Why did you betray me? You made me do this.”
What? You’re the one that just stabbed me. How is this my fault? I what I want to say, but I can’t get anything out. She is trying to guilt trip me! Though, she does have a point. She wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t blabbed to Veronica about everything…
I am having a hard time thinking anything through.
“You’re so selfish, always thinking about how things effect you and never everybody else. Did you even think about how your actions would affect me? How I would feel about all the shit you said about me, talked about me behind my back? And now the love of my life is going to die because of your actions.”
Tears finally start to fall from my eyes, and not just because of the pain that I am in. I didn’t mean for this to happen! And look what has occurred. I’m going to die and there is nothing I can do about it. My legs finally buckle, too weak to hold themselves up any longer. I fall heavily on my side, which sends starbursts of pain from my stomach and throughout my body, causing small whimpers to escape through my lips. Blood has started to bleed though my shirt, dripping down my skin in rivets to the ground. It has started to stain the thin layer of snow that had fallen and the dirt underneath. The patches of snow leave my thin shirt damp.
I hadn’t realised at first, but black is creeping along the edge of my vision, and my breathing has slowed down. I probably should be worried at this, but at the moment I can’t really feel anything at all. My limbs are starting to feel cold, as cold as ice, and not just because I am lying in a pile of snow.
I think Louve walked away after I had collapsed, leaving me to bleed out in the snow, but I can’t be sure. I hope Veronica knows that I now only blame myself, not her. I should have done something to prevent this from happening and known what my actions would have caused. But I didn’t and now I’m dying, laying in a tomb of my own blood-stained snow.
How long will it take for someone to find me? I hadn’t told anybody where I were going. I really hope that my friends do not worry about me before I am found, they deserve some piece of mind before they find my corpse. Reina will be devastated, but I know that she would eventually forget about me. I don’t even want to think about Veronica. I wonder what my family will say at my funeral, I don’t think I is a particularly interesting person. Though that might have changed now that I am a murder case. It doesn’t matter, I won’t be alive to see it.
A final shuddering breath leaves my body, leaving my corpse an empty husk, no longer filled with life like it was just moments, hours before.
The sluggish blood that was seeping through the wound had finally stopped, leaving behind a corpse in a grave of snow and blood. The skin is now tinged in blue and freezing to the touch. The snow, which is still steadily falling down, falls heavier down and completely covers the remains, leaving just a mound of what, to anyone who may eventually pass by, appears to be snow.