Day Three: The story with no title as yet.

I am very proud of myself. I’m all patting myself on the back, I made it to day 3 y’all!!! Without flaking out or getting lazy!!!! ….I hope it’s not a premature celebration though.
Day 3…..today i share the first installment of a story I’m writing, just for just. I don’t have a title for it yet but I hope you enjoy it.

KENNETH
The day I died was a cold day. Cold and wet. The rain had just ceased. Everything was really vivid, greens were really green, the blues were extra blue and the air all around was really clean. It seemed like light was being emitted from everything around me. It was oh so beautiful.
I lay on the grass, holding onto the wound that was killing me, feeling the warm blood seeping out. I had a lot of strength yet so little. I knew that I should be feeling pain, but I wasn’t. I think it must have been the adrenaline.
They say your life flashes before your eyes just at the moment of your death. I used to think this was a myth until the day that it actually happened, the day I died.
Triumphs, regrets, loves, family, the laughs, the tears and most especially her…..who was kneeling over me, tears streaming down her eyes. Her mouth was open, she was saying something,  I presume she was screaming for help, I could not hear her. Her beautiful bosom was heaving just above me. Oh how I wished I could touch, just one more time.
Sandra, my beautiful free spirited Sandra. The love of my life, thorn in my side, Sandra. The reason I went to war with impossible odds. The reason I am dead.

SANDRA
No this isn’t it, this can’t be it. This isn’t the end. He’s bleeding, He’s dying, can someone do something. He’s dying, Lord please help him.
Oh my God, he’s smiling. Stop smiling Kenneth, this is not the end. This cannot be the end.
I just found you!

All these thoughts ran through Sandra’s head, as she held on to Kenneth’s bloody hand. Crying.
The blood and the mud were soiling her beautiful wedding dress but this did not bother her. She did not want to let go of him. She looked around frantically for anyone to help. But the people just stood at the sidelines talking amongst themselves while others were taking photos with their smart phones, the sight of the macabre exciting and frightening them.
“SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!!” she screamed.
Her brothers came forward then, trying to pry her from the dying man’s side. She fought them off screaming, “YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED HIM, YOU GOONS! LET ME GO, KILLERS!
The three men let her go reluctantly and stood over her, shifting uncomfortably. Guilt written all over their faces.
Sandra started to plead to a God she had ignored up until that moment.

Please help him, don’t let him die. He’s my heart, you see.
He’s my heart. Don’t let it stop, please don’t let it stop. Because if it stops, I die too.
Where is the ambulance? Damn this country and it’s disregard for life. Damn this country and it’s traffic jam. WHERE ON EARTH ARE THE PARAMEDICS!.
Please save him…..

She was still silently when she felt a wet hand on her cheek. It was Kenneth. She looked down at him, he tried to smile but his face distorted in pain. He opened his mouth to say something. But blood splattered out of his mouth. He started to cough up blood. A lot of blood. The blood, it seems, had started to fill his lungs. Then he breathed his last…..

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