The Stranger in the Night

The light pitter-patter of raindrops sounded on the cold, compressed, concrete-like ground. The moon shone brightly, breaking the still, night sky. It was here, where it all happened. On a night much like this.
I was walking along this path, my hand entwined in Mason’s, and my other held up my little, red umbrella sheltering us from the falling rain. As we walked along this long and winding path we heard footsteps behind us. I thought nothing of it at the time. I did not care, when I had him by my side. He made me feel safe.
We heard the footsteps quicken, louder and louder. I could hear heavy panting.
My heart beat faster. I turned to see this stranger, this hooded figure, coming toward us.
Before we could react the stranger was upon us. Screaming and struggling he took hold of me. He pulled me away from Mason, wrapping one arm around my neck, as the other fell into his pocket. He withdrew his hand, and out came a gun.
I gasped with terror.
Mason tried talking to this stranger calmly, telling him to let me go. He would not listen.
He told Mason to step back or he would fire. His hand shook. Mason thought the man acted irrationally, unable to go through with this deed. Mason stepped forward, arm outstretched to take the gun.
He screamed for Mason to step back and not come any closer. I felt his body shift as he began to panic. Ignorantly Mason continued.
There was a deafening sound in my ear. My heart stopped. I felt sheer anguish and panic.
I watched Mason fall to the ground.
The stranger, shaking violently, dropped the gun and let go of me. I hit the ground. I watched the hooded figure stagger into the night.
My head spun. Despite this, I scrambled to Mason.
Blood. Everywhere.
It stains my memory as it stained the ground beneath my feet.
As I lay there, in the pool of his blood, lying across his body, I listened to his last few breaths. I knew not what else to do.
I knew one thing for sure. I couldn’t leave him there. Alone.
I heard his breath slowing as he struggled. Tears flowed; I looked at his face through blurred vision as he gasped his last.
I saw the bright glisten he usually had in his eyes leave. He was gone.
I lay there looking at his cold, lifeless body. I just lay there. I wouldn’t leave him. I couldn’t.
This memory is the last thing I have of him. I cannot let it go.
It’s been a year. A year since that dreadful night.
Everyone said that I had to move on with my life.
But he was my life. My everything.
I cannot go on any longer.
That’s why I’m here. It seems fitting. His deathbed could be mine. We could be reunited in the afterlife, watching over this unkind world together. From now until forever.