No Longer Would She Smile
A throbbing sensation deep in the pit of his stomach kept his nerves on edge. He couldn't pin the origin of it down to too much physical exertion. After the work out he had just been through he'd have in any other situation expected it to be a muscle ache, but he knew it wasn't. It was so much more than that. The pain he was feeling was of a spiritual kind, an aching that pierced through his very soul and threatened to rip his beliefs from him no matter how hard or long he protested and held tight to them. A face haunted his thoughts and it was that face that caused his grief.
In her twenties, the girl had blonde curly hair, thin lips and eyes that had once been sparkling blue and full of life. No longer would those eyes gleam in the sunlight and no longer would her lips curl into a wicked smile at the sight of a guy she liked or a friend walking in her direction or a sunset. Rather, she lay in the dirt, as cold as a fish on ice, her skin nearly translucent. Two small pin points marked her neck.
While he knew there had been nothing more that he could have done, the guilt was there and it had brought reinforcements. Kneeling by the girl's limp form, he whispered his fingertips over her jaw, not quite touching so he wouldn't leave behind any prints. His gut wrenched. Fingers trailed slowly through the air above her paper-thin skin and then withdrew. He shoved his hands into his pockets.
Standing, he closed his eyes and took in a breath. "I'm sorry," he murmured and set on his way. He had not been able to save this girl, but maybe he'd be able to save the next one with whom he crossed paths. Maybe.