Finding Destiny

by Christa Simpson

  I’m so scared and I’m afraid that no one will find me. I don’t want to be alone right now. I need someone to get me out of here. “Help me!” I cry out at the top of my lungs.

  That is a mistake.

  Tears pour down my face and mingle with some other liquid that has been steadily seeping from my ear. Everything is foggy. I listen for any sign that help is on its way, but the piercing ring in my ears prevents me from hearing anything over the gasps I take with every struggling breath.

  This is it. My life is over. No one is here. No one can save me now.

  Another screech rips through my ears. It’s a woman. All at once, everything falls back into place.

  Felicia.

  Oh God. Tell me she’s okay. If you must take someone, take me.

  Now that my eyes are shut, it takes a great deal of energy to open them. I have been hit. I know that much. But what’s pinning me in place? I can’t move anything but an arm. Why can’t I move?

  As my mind floods with my bleak reality, I scream—a full-on scream—knowing it could be the death of me. “Help! Someone please help me!”

  I don’t know what feels worse: the stabbing pain my side, or the throb inside my chest with every wayward beat of my heart. It feels like my chest is crushed and my heart is dangling from a vine. I’m running on empty. I can’t feel my legs.

  I pry my eyes open and hold them there like they’re stuck open with toothpicks. “Oh, God. Please help me,” I cry out softly. I slowly wake from the darkness to a beautiful angel surrounded in a storm of white searing pain. She’s pleading for me to stay with her. Lucky for her, I can’t go anywhere at the moment.

  The angel struggles with the passenger window. The door is pretty mangled and she can’t get it open very far. Why is she still in the truck? She’s determined to escape now. I think to do the same. I try to move my legs again, but I can’t—at least I don’t think I can.

  “Noooo,” I moan, when pain shoots up my spine and settles in my chest. I try to move my upper body, but I feel a lot of pressure in my gut. It feels like someone has thrown an entire set of knives at me, like I’m a dart board, and now that the knives are removed, my intestines ooze from the holes.

  “Don’t move, Matty. I’m coming,” the angel cries.

  My eyes lift just enough to reach the white creature. She’s so magnificent. I’d do anything for the girl, if she’d just take my pain away.

  “Please,” I beg. “Help me.”

  “Matty—I swear to God—if you leave me, I will kill you myself,” she shouts through the broken window. The angel sounds so angry. Why is she so mad at me?

  My eyes blink open again. My life is so hazy, but I have a glimmer of an angel lying in the snow, with her luscious brown hair tangling above her.

  Wait a minute. That’s no angel. “Felicia?”

  “Oh, God. Thank you,” she cries, as she squeezes out through the passenger window.

  She has a horrible limp, but she seems to ignore it as she drags her injured leg behind her. I watch her climb awkwardly onto the mangled hood and I see how it tears at her jacket. She lies right on top of the shattered windshield and reaches out to me. It takes every ounce of energy I have just to hold her hand.

  “Hang on, Matty. Please . . . you have to stay with me.”

  I gasp for another breath. “What are you talking about?” It takes so much energy just to talk. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She smiles through tears, but her eyes can’t hide the fear. She swallows. “They got you pretty good. I’m not going to be able to get you out of this mess alone.”

  When I cough, it feels like I just ejected my appendix. I try to look down, but a stinging sensation clings to my spine and clamps my chin in place.

  “Felicia, if I die, know that if I had more time in life I would have wanted to spend it with you.”

  My life seems to flash before my eyes, as she chokes on her tears.

  “Shut up!” she cries out. “No one’s going to die.”

  I can see that she’s squeezing onto my hand with a death grip, but I lost all sensation in my hands minutes ago.

  The cold grips me and seizes my insides. My eyes slide shut and it takes too much effort to reopen them. “Help me,” I whisper. Even my voice is tired. It’s like it has run out of time. “I’m dying.”

  “You’re not going to die,” she stammers. “You hear me, Matty? Not today, you’re not. You’re going to hang on for me, okay? You’re going to hang on and live for me. You have to.”

  Her voice cuts off. She’s sobbing now. I can tell she’s trying to be strong for me, but nothing can wake me from this nightmare. I’m going to die. I can feel it in my badly broken bones.

  “Matty,” she screams. “You have to wake up.”

  I can’t do that. Too sleepy. I can hear the sirens, but they aren’t going to make it in time. I can feel my life draining from my broken body. This life that I lead is officially over.

  BUY BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN NOW!

  BLACK WIDOW

  Publishing

  http://BWPbooks.com

  Kill your competition with Black Widow Publishing.