The raindrops hit the ground simultaneously yet with a rhythm no one can ever foretell.
He could feel his body go numb and the air get thinner. If he wasn't mistaken, his eyesight was getting blurry and it wasn't just because of the drops that fell in to his eyes.
John tried to move off the wet ground, feeling stiff and weary. Despite his efforts to get up, he still lay there, almost immobile. He could feel himself panting for air like a fish out of water and somewhere, there was a prick of sharp pain.
'How… How did this happen?' John thought to himself as he struggled, 'Why did I get mugged and stabbed?'
Indeed, John was walking back from the shops, and he was jumped. The man had stabbed him in his left lung, took his wallet and ran.
Managing to turn his head from the gaze he had at the crying sky, John looked to his right, hoping to find something or someone there. Only now did he feel helpless and it just had to be now. He tried to reach his cell, but couldn't.
He grunted as the same sudden pain hit him again. John felt slight shock when he glanced at his side and found blood. One more time, in the intention to get help, John reached for his cell. This time he grabbed it and held it in his shaking hand. He pressed 911 and put it to his ear.
"911, are you in need of the Police, Ambulance or Fire brigade?"
"A...mbu...lan...ce," John gasped.
"What is your emergency?" The operator asked.
"I..." John gasped again.
His cell fell from his hand.
With that, John realised something. It was the end for him. Strangely, John flinched and strained to smile one last time. It was something he hasn't done in such a long time and he just wanted to feel it again.
The feeling of happiness, of relief and… that light feeling you get simply with a grin.
But, his efforts were in vain. Who could smile at his own time of death? What kind of happiness will one feel at this point when he isn't even suicidal? Will there be relief?
John turned again to see whatever was at his left. He found nothing beyond the hard rain and since that was the case, all he could do now was close his eyes gently and wait for death.
It was as if he was in the middle of nowhere, dying. He felt his chilly breath float near his face and with every passing moment, his breath ran thinner and thinner.
Unable to take it anymore, John flickered his eyes open and even if his eyes were failing him now, he just wanted to see her one more time… one last time.
Yes, even if she was the last person he'll see, he'll just be glad to see her that's all. All he wanted to do was glance at her, then shut his eyes forever. Was it too much to ask for?
Knowing that nothing was in store for him anymore, now that he was slowly dying, John finally decided to go back to closing his eyes and he promised himself that he wouldn't open them again.
Yet, there was again something that kept him from keeping that promise…
With those words, John immediately drew his eyes open. His stiff neck stopped him from turning to the other side and with that; all he could do was wait for her to approach him near enough to see her.
His throat went drier than ever and with a huff of air, he gasped, "…Who… Wh...o's... the...re?"
He wasn't answered verbally with the same feminine voice but he felt and heard splashing footsteps, running to him. His face still faced the opposite side and he couldn't turn even the slightest bit.
The woman knelt down, looking at him with a concern, panic and worry. Still, John didn't know who she was since he was facing the other way. John felt the woman reaching for his chin and when she did, she moved it carefully.
She turned his head to her way and when she saw John's pale expression, all she could mutter was, "Oh my gosh! John what happened?"
John now realised who she was. It was his friend, Monica. Rain from above fell on the back of her head, falling down the sides. He didn't move as they just exchanged forlorn looks until he muttered, "I... wa...s...stab...bed,"
"Don't die please," She cried applying pressure to his wound. He screamed then stopped.
There was a silence between the two. All they heard was the hastened pit-pat of the rain and each other's breathing. The cold, unforgiving wind beat against them yet none of them was bothered.
"Please don't leave me John, the ambulance will be here soon. Just hold on," Monica cried and begged.
He knew well that he was going to die. John felt her heart beginning to fail, his beat almost fading away.
"I... love...you...Monica..." He gasped.
He had his eyes partly closed now but she knew he was still alive.
"John, please hold on," Monica cried holding on to his hand.
After one last breath, John closed his eyes gently, never to open them again.
"John... please don't leave me..." She cried.
Her shaking hand reached his neck in search for a pulse. When she didn't find one, she began to panic again. She tried to remember what to do but her mind wasn't working. She looked at John.
She couldn't lose him. She put her thumb and index finger on his chin and her other hand on his forehead. She tilted his head backwards. She didn't hesitate at all. This was the man she loved. She pinched his nose and knelt down giving him a breath. His chest rose and fell. Monica waited a second and gave another breath. There was no movement from John.
"Come on John! Please don't leave me!" She cried.
She started with compressions and she heard the sirens. As the paramedics took over, she cried in to her hands. John couldn't leave her. Everything seemed a blur as the paramedic led her away. And she heard those words she would never forget, as long as she lived.
"Time of death, 5:07 pm,"