Darkness filled her thoughts and clouded her sight. All Delilah could think about was sleep. Adrenaline was the only thing that had allowed her to go so far without resting. That and Trevor who now laid beside her unmoving. His plastered open eyes were staring into the nothingness of the alley. Delilah shook his arm, but he didn’t stir.

He was practically floating in his own pool of blood. She shook his arm again but abandoned the effort after she noticed the bullet hole in his head from which the blood issued out. A cry of pain escaped her lips as she forced herself to look away from Trevor’s body.

Delilah attempted to stand up, but the intense pain in her stomach prohibited this action. She held her hand over the gaping wound to keep as much blood inside of her as she could. A lightheaded feeling had already entered her, and she could barely will her body to crawl like a baby along the dirty alley.

She knew that she was probably going to die, but she refused to die in the alley. That was the last place that she would want to be.

The little girl in the white dress still stood at the end of the alley. The gun in her hand issued a small stream of smoke. Her little hands looked too small to carry such a big weapon, but she handled it as though she was born to.

Her green eyes watched Delilah as she crawled towards her while letting out screams of pain. They hardly showed any emotion as did the rest of her body. Delilah was only a few feet from her as she raised the gun again and shot her in the arm. Delilah fell from her crawling position but still managed to pull herself with one arm towards the end of the alley and the little girl.

Her strength was waning each time that she pulled her self across the filth covered pavement, but Delilah continued to keep going. The arm that hadn’t been shot was shaking so badly, and the rest of her body soon followed this motion. A coldness crept into her, and by the time she was only a foot from the girl, her body gave out.

She wasn’t going to make it out of the alley.

A gun barrel pressed against her forehead as she looked up at the girl in front of her.

“Why did you kill Trevor? I’m the one you wanted! You didn’t have to kill him!” Delilah cried.

The girl didn’t reply, but Delilah didn’t expect her to anyways. Her senses were weakening. She could barely make out the night sky above her. There were no stars. No shining hope left in the sky.

Delilah didn’t hear anybody behind her, but the girl saw someone approaching in the shadows of the alley. There was barely enough time for recognition to register on her face before a large knife flew from the shadowy figure’s hands into her forehead. Her tiny body fell delicately fell to the ground in front of Delilah.

Looking to see who was behind her, Delilah turned her head as far as it would go to be greeted with the site of a girl who could only have been a few years older than she was. She wore a black t-shirt with black dress pants. A red jacket was thrown over this ensemble, and she wore red Chuck Taylor’s Converses to match. Her dark brown hair was cut boy short, and her ice blue eyes were staring holes through Delilah.

“God, not another one,” Delilah prayed, as she fearfully attempted to crawl away from the knife thrower.

Her body failed her once again as her good arm refused to move.

The knife thrower approached Delilah’s immobile body but did not move to attack her. Instead, she pulled the dead little girl’s body to the side of the alley and removed the knife from her head. Taking a handkerchief out of her red jacket, she wiped all of the blood off of her knife and put it back in her belt where it came from.

“Who are you?” Delilah’s weak voice asked.

The ice blue eyes stared at her, but no answer came. Her mouth was drawn tight, and Delilah could tell that she had no intention on answering the question. She turned her gaze from Delilah as she heard someone else approaching.

Delilah didn’t have to look to know it was Radcliffe. She was already used to hearing him approach her. He took his time walking down the alley figuring that the blood trail Delilah had created across the alleyway was a good sign that she was beyond help.

“Radcliffe,” Delilah started, but her voice began to falter as tears poured from her eyes.

Radcliffe knelt down beside her and rolled her body into his arms to keep her off of the filthy ground. She screamed in pain as he moved her in this position and struggled to keep the blood from completely spilling out of her body. Once he sat her upon his knees however, she was filled with an intense calm as her body became more numb to the pain.

“This is Charley,” Radcliffe said, motioning to the knife girl standing up against the wall.

“She’s pretty,” Delilah stated.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

A flash of lightning lit up the sky and was soon followed by a boom of thunder. Radcliffe took Delilah’s hair out of the tight ponytail that she had put it in earlier. Her light brown hair fell out of its hold, and Radcliffe ran his fingers through it to remove the few knots.

“I didn‘t think you would want to die with your hair tied up.”

“I‘m not going to die. Not yet. Not like this.”

The rain began to fall softly at first. Delilah could feel each drop as it landed on her pale face. It mixed with her tears and ran down her face.

“Who was she?” Delilah asked Radcliffe.

“The girl? She was one of the assassins I told you about. They raise them young, so they have no emotions. It’s all that they know.”

“But why did she have to kill Trevor too?”

“It was for her own protection I imagine. If she had just killed you, he would have more than likely killed her before she could run away.”

“You sound so calm, Radcliffe. You and your girl over there. You both just take it like it is nothing. To me, however, it means something. I’ve killed many people, but it is only now that I got Trevor killed that I realize how wrong I was.”

Radcliffe looked over at Charley who had suddenly sprung to life at being mentioned in such a negative way. He motioned for her to calm down, and she instinctively went back to her original position against the brick wall.

“What got her so riled up?” Delilah asked.

“She hates when people say that she doesn’t care.”

“Then why doesn’t she cuss me out or something.”

“She doesn’t speak.”

“There seems to be an organization of mutes running around this city,” she noted, sarcastically.

“She’s not mute. She just doesn’t speak. You probably shouldn’t either.”

“I can’t help but talk about everything that I’ve ever worried about. I lived my whole life on the lie that I couldn’t change anything. I can’t die knowing what I am.”

“And what is that?”

“A product of the streets that never became anything else. I could have left, and I knew it. There were always choices, but I refused to notice them. I could have left, but instead I stayed to find Trevor because I needed to know that I was loved. I thought that if I was loved that I had something to live for. Sure, I found him, but he’s dead now because of me, so what’s to say that my whole life wasn’t a mistake.”

“Love makes us do crazy things, but it’s not always a mistake to search for it.”

“If it wasn’t a mistake, then wouldn’t I be alive and happy now?”

“You wouldn’t realize how precious life is if it hadn’t happened this way.”

“Still, I’m just not ready to resign myself to hell.”

“What makes you say that you are going to hell?”

“Because sinners go to hell and that’s exactly what I am.”

“Don’t you believe in forgiveness?”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Then we agree on something.”

“I don’t believe that God sends little girls that don’t know any better to hell.”

“But I did know better! Only I was too stupid to change it. There’s always a choice, but I ignored that fact. Now, look at me. I’m watching the blood pour out of me and still refusing to die.”

“You said yourself that you always resigned yourself to the easier situation. There’s still time to change if you believe it. Don’t resign yourself to hell yet. You made a choice to follow your heart, and now it is time to make your last decision.”

“And what is that?”

“Whether you will allow yourself to die in peace.”

“I don’t think I can ever find peace knowing every past mistake I made.”

“He has forgiven worse.”

---

Delilah’s eyes slowly began to involuntarily close. The rain continued to fall, but Delilah couldn’t feel the drops landing on her face anymore. She could just hear the raindrops as they hit the ground coupled with the thunder after the lightning. It was then that she realized what the raindrops’ sound was reminiscent of.

Waves crashing against the seashore.

Delilah opened her eyes up to look out into the street. Only there was no street anymore. Just the blue seathat stretched out for endless miles with the sand in front of it. The waves were crashing in, and sea foam was being thrown this way and that. The air was so cool and refreshing.

The sun was slowly rising from the depths of the sea. Delilah could feel its warm rays upon her face. She was breathing in the sea air. It was so refreshing, and her pain was slowly subsiding.

Delilah’s eyesight began to improve, and she discerned a figure walking along the seashore. She wore a long white dress that stopped just before her ankles. The waves crashed in over her delicate feet and erased the footprints in the sand behind her. The cool sea breeze blew her dark wavy hair in her face, and she laughed as she tried to clear her field of vision.

The angel in white. Jane. Radcliffe’s Jane. She was so beautiful.

Jane looked over and noticed Delilah lying there. She smiled at her, and Delilah felt the life coming back into her body. A delicate hand was waving Delilah over to the water, but she didn’t think she would be able to get up.

The sea air entered her mouth, and she was then invigorated. Slowly, she lifted herself up and stood on the sand. Each grain could be felt beneath her now shoeless feet. The wounds in her stomach and arm had disappeared along with all of the dirt she had picked up off the ground.

Breathing in the fresh sea air, Delilah began to run towards the water.

“I’m so sorry, Jane,” Delilah apologized. “I’m so sorry. If I could take it all back, I would. Please, understand.”

Jane didn’t answer. She didn’t have to understand. It was what she was made of.

Grabbing her hand, Jane pulled Delilah into the sea. The water was so cold and clean. A peacefulness filled her heart and body. She stepped out into the ocean until only her head was above the water. Delilah filled her lungs up with all the air she could before diving under the surface of the water.

---

“She’s dead,” Radcliffe said after checking for her pulse.

Charley only nodded in acknowledgement. Picking up the girl’s body, Radcliffe proceeded out of the alley and onto the street. They walked for a short distance before he stopped to explain himself.

“I won’t leave her body here, Charley. You know what those sick bastards do to little girls’ bodies in the morgues around here, don’t you?”

He didn’t have to explain himself to Charley. She always knew what he was thinking, but he always felt that an explanation was needed. Charley stepped in front of him and walked the five blocks to where they had parked her car.

After driving for seven miles, they came to the cliff over the river. Still carrying her body, Radcliffe stepped out of Charley’s car and walked to the edge. The river was running fast due to the heavy rainfall. Reluctantly, he dropped Delilah’s body over the edge of the cliff. She hit the water and went under quickly.

“You know that I don’t like doing this, Charley,” he explained.

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a red rose petal. Fluttering in the air, it fell down the same path that Delilah’s body had traveled to join her. It was Charley’s standard ritual for this situation, but she didn’t understand just how appropriate it was this time.

Tugging on Radcliffe’s arm, Charley turned to leave, but he did not follow. She went ahead and jumped back in the car. He looked over the edge of the cliff to the water below. Her body hopeful would be swept somewhere nice. Somewhere pleasant.

Delilah had been muttering before she died. Most of them usually murmur and hallucinate before taking the big sleep, so he was used to this type of crazy talk. She had talked about the seashore and something about Jane. He couldn’t piece enough of it together to make sense, but he at least knew that she didn’t die in pain. There had been a smile on her face as her last breath of air had passed her lips.

A smile of peace. A smile of understanding. A scene of paradise.