I do not own "Time of Dying" lyrics - they belong to the band "Three Days Grace" and everyone who is affiliated with creating it. I am making no profit from borrowing the lyrics so please don't sue! :D
Time of Dying
On the ground I lay, motionless in pain.
The elderly woman looked on in shock as the hooded figure ran off in the opposite direction. It had all happened so fast, a blur or movement and a muffled cry of pain. Before she knew it, the man beside her had fallen to the floor. Shock paralyzed her body. The young man who had assaulted her husband had escaped with no more than a bit of loose change and an old wristwatch. It couldn't have been worth much more than a ten pound note.
Yet he had taken so much more.
I can see my life flashing before my eyes.
She remembered when they had first met, so many moons ago. He'd been a handsome young man, with beautiful blue eyes and dark black hair. Now, of course, he was white and practically bald, but she remembered the style he had, how it was cut short and kept neat. He'd charmed her with flowers and chocolates and made her laugh so much her eyes would weep. He was everything her parents disapproved of, a lower class guy, without two pennies to rub together. He was not the higher educated, posh gentlemen they expected her to fall for. Far from it. Infact, he was not of their class and they said that he was beneath her. She could do so much better, they would say. But what did they know? He was her soul mate and always had been.
Did I fall asleep? Is this all a dream?
The woman cried out, a haunting, soulful cry. Yet no one came. The street was deserted, the lonely glow of the street lamps her only company. They had braved the Winter weather to buy a newspaper and seen nobody on their way there either. Nobody except the mystery attacker. She felt anger boiling in her blood. He had done no wrong. Why had this happened? Why would nobody help them?
"Please!" She grasped at his hand, "Please... Don't go."
Wake me up. I'm living a nightmare.
The elderly man was unresponsive. His eyes were closed, his skin pale. Blood spilled out onto the street from the stab wound in his chest.
"Help!" His wife cried, "Please, somebody!"
She shook him at the shoulders, pleaded with him not to give up. She fumbled around in her pocket and couldn't find her mobile phone. It wasn't there. Where was it? God, how could she have left it at home at a time like this? Her eyes darted, a phone box, just feet away. The little red box was their only chance.
"I'm going to ring for help. Please, hold on for me. Please..."
She got to her feet, kissed his hand gently and ran across the street as fast as her legs could carry her.
I will not die.
I will not die.
I will survive.
For fifty years, they had held each others hand. The gold band they each wore had not been taken off since the day they had given them to each other, back in 1962. As the woman dialed frantically for the ambulance, she thought back to all the happy memories they had shared together. She remembered their honey moon, their first born, the many holidays abroad they had shared together. Most of all, she remembered his smile. The wrinkles around his eyes as he laughed.
She hoped to God she would see that smile again.
I will not die, I'll wait here for you.
"Hello! Ambulance...My husband... he's been stabbed."
The realization of the situation at hand brought a lump to her throat. Tears burned her eyes and the elderly woman left the phone dangling, despite being asked to wait on the line until the ambulance arrived. She would not wait across the street whilst her husband lay in a pool of blood. No. She could not abandon him now, when he needed her most.
"They are on the way."
The words rung in her ears and she dared to hope, that maybe, just maybe, they'd get there in time. She ran across the street, not bothering to check for traffic,
and fell to her knees at her husband's side. She clasped at his hands, told him for the millionth time since they'd met, how much she loved him.
And she did love him, so very very much.
I feel alive, when you're beside me.
It felt like an eternity before the flashing blue lights could be seen in the distance but it had been mere minutes. She had placed her head on her husband's chest, sickened and distraught at the warm sticky liquid that instantly splashed onto her cheeks. She had been listening at first for the faint beat of his heart, feeling for the slight rise and fall of his rib cage. She wasn't sure she could feel anything anymore. But she left her head there regardless.
I will not die.
The sirens cut through the silence like a knife. The elderly woman turned her head to see the paramedics frantically heading in their direction.
I'll wait here for you, in my time of dying.
"It'll be ok," She whispered, tears salty on her lips, "They are here, my love, they are here!"
Thanks for reading :)