Chapter 2: Part 3

His body wasn't moving.

I ran closer to him.

I couldn't hear him breathing.

I felt his pulse.

…faint and dying.

I flipped my father over, his eyes full of regret, fear and guilt. Blood ran out of his mouth. His face and neck were pale. My eyes started to tear up, his hand barely moving, but made its way to intertwine with mine. At his cold touch I saw a faint smile on his face, a sad smile. My eyes traced over his body, clothes partially ripped and stained. Landing over my fathers other hand, I saw that it was red with blood. Slowly, as to not hurt him more, I saw that he was stabbed. In his stomach, was a knife. It was dug deeply into his skin and twisted. Another wave of emotions and facts hit me. I frantically looked around for something to help him. Tears blurred my vision as I tried to keep my lip from quivering, from yelling at him and telling him to stay. I knew it was impossible considering the stage and place we were in. With my bloody hand, I ripped off my eyepatch to help slow down the bleeding. The sound of rustling was heard. I was trying to pick him up, with all I had left in me. I started to drag my father, to see if we could both make it to the others on time. To see if they could help. To see if he could be with Mom, or even Maxy one last time.

"Amy…" My father's raspy voice coughed, blood spilling from the sides of his mouth. My eyes widened at the sound of his voice. Slowly turning my head around and letting everything unfold before me, I gently let my father down. My lungs felt like they weren't there. I was breathing so slowly, in hopes for something, anything, to happen.

"Amy, please stay here. Stay with me until one of us leaves." He told me. I could feel my tears well up in my eyes again. The pain was too much to bear.

"You're asking me to stay with you, and watch you heal? Like the Miracle Maiden from the stories? Right?" I told him. Hope and grief filled my voice. I looked at his half lidded eyes, the rest of his body covered in the fog and steam.

"I'm asking you to be the strong girl I know you are an-" Cough. He hacked more blood out of his mouth, his face growing more pale. When the coughing died down, he continued. "And bear the pain of watching your father take his final breath of life. I want my soul to see you as it flies away, to the place we call paradise."

"No.. I can't. I can't do it. PLease don't make me do this." I begged him. My tears were clouding my vision. Light hissing noises came from the vents, emitting more steam. Soon, all I could see in the fog was my fathers head, cradled in my arms. I didn't care about his wound, or the knife in his stomach. I didn't care if I was being watched. No one could save him and I knew it, but my heat grieved for him. It pleaded for him to be alive. I couldn't accept this. I couldn't face reality.