It's been a while since I've posted (or written...) something for Take These Broken Shards—the last snippet I posted about it was in November. I wrote this on Thursday, and I have finally (I think) rekindled my excitement for this story.
Enjoy!
Trigger Warning: blood, death
Tears were running down her face, hot tears, wet tears, salty tears. Her breath was heavy, her chest tightened and she couldn’t breath. One…two…three…
At the count of twenty, she exhaled. But the tears did not stop, oh the horrid, salty, bitter tears.
“No,” she whispered. “No, you can’t just leave.”
Her brother lay with his eyes to the sky—he was ready for death.
A pain tore through her heart, a flame licked at her spirit, the fire running through her and she wanted to kick something, to punch something.
It’s okay, Andrya, punch me.
Tears were overflowing in her eyes now, and a sob chocked at her throat. “You can’t just die like this!”
A faint smile touched his face. “You’ll learn to be okay with this, I’m going home now.”
“No!” she screamed again, and once again she gasped for breath and held it in her chest, like a small little flame that couldn’t be snuffed out.
Breath, Andrya. Breath, little sister.
“I can’t!” she shouted. “I can’t,” she whispered again. The urge, the urge to punch something, to feel the pain released through her fists. But—no, she could not punch him, not her dying brother, not her protective big brother.
She fell to her knees, and the unwanted tears dripped down her face and sunk into the dirt.
Brandon, her brother, her loving brother, was dying, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Her protecter, he would not be there again. Who would she come to, to cry? No one would be there.
“You can’t…” she gasped. “You can’t….I need you…” Oh, how she wished she could trade places. Oh, how she wished the bullet had torn through her flesh instead of his. “You didn’t have to do this for me…”
He smiled again. “Today is my day to come home, Andrya. Live your life. Defeat this evil. I love you.”
The tears kept dripping, but he stopped smiling, and his breathing slowed until it grew fainter…fainter…fainter… And in a heartbeat, it stopped.
A strangled sound emerged from her lips, a cry for help, a scream of anguish from the depths of her soul. “You can’t just leave like that…”
...
In October, I posted a snippet. It wasn't part of the Take These Broken Shards, but the stories were related: the snippet was a part of a prequel that I had written. On February 28th, I will be sending the full story with my newsletter (and the second snippet is going to be released on February 21st.
What do you think of this snippet? Tell me in the comments!
