She Can't be Saved

Leanna runs like I've never seen before. She doesn't stumble or fall. She isn't scared. What runs through her mind, a guy could only imagine. The guys around me are thinking of her body no doubt. Wanting to take her to their bed. Or maybe the nerdy boys sitting next to my feet are thinking about video games. I'm different from other guys. When I watch Leanna, I'm not thinking about sex or sports. I'm thinking about the danger she is in. Accident-Prone to nearly everything aside from sports, Leanna continues to be oblivious. When will she know? How will she figure it out?

I yearn to be the one to tell her. Not only because she is my best friend, but because I know her situation better than anyone. I can't tell her though. She can't know what is going to happen to her. I can't save her.

I run my fingers through my hair as she jumps over the obstacles. She comes to the high school track every other night, practicing for track meets. Despite my attempts to stop her, she still ignored me. Every night her life hangs on a thread about to snap. I can't save her. It's an impulsive thought that pounds with every heart beat. I can't save her. Every minute I know her death is getting closer. Every hurdle, every stride she takes, her life begins to wane. The thought begins to be unbearable. I grow numb. Slowly I stand, appearance is crucial now. I casually make my way to the concession stands, my blood feels like it's freezing. She could never know. She won't ever know.

Her family will miss her. She'll leave behind a baby sister. No one will know what happens, because I'll be gone by the time her death is even questioned.

Death in front of the whole school.

I sit down in a fairly empty bleacher and watch the coach call a ten minute break. Her water bottle is next to me, and I uncap it before she looks. I hear the plop and my breath stops short. It's too late to take it back, the water is already dissolving it. I put the cap back on and stand stiffly, ignoring the raging guilt and the nervous butterflies. Time is decreasing.

I stand in the shadows of the stands, watching my beloved Leanna drink. I can't save her. I can't save her. I can't save her. I had to get out, but I am frozen in place, watching her run back onto the field. She doesn't know. No one does.

The gun is fired and the competitors dash into action. My face grows hot. Her name repeats in my head, over and over. I can't hear the roar of the crowds, because my blood is pumping too hard behind my ears, my heart is speeding up. Thirty seconds. She has a beautiful smile on her face. Twenty seconds. She is still vying to win this. Ten seconds. Her real friends cheer her on. Five seconds, and I take a desperate step forward. It's as if she is searching for me in the crowd. Three seconds. Her follow up passes her. She's slowly down dramatically, her face is pale. Two seconds and she falls to the ground. I start racing towards her. Once second, she takes her last breath.

She goes limp.

I cry out her name and collapse next to her body. The crowd is still trying to figure out what happened, at the same time a winner crosses the finish line. Crowds go wild, just as teachers and adults race to me. I still hold her dead body against my own. Hot, wet tears sting my eyes. I did it. I killed her. That was why she could never know.

A frenzy erupts and I'm shoved away as paramedics are called. You can't save her, I think.

A heavy hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I know I failed. I was suppose to leave right after I closed the bottle. I messed up.

The man drags me into a secure place and glared at me with dark eyes. He hands me a knife. He wants me to end my life, I no longer belong.

I'll be with my Leanna. I'll hold her in my arms again, apologize with everything I have.

Unless I am sent to Hell. Angels like Leanna can't go to Hell. Assassins like me do.

I've failed her.