How George survived his stabbing
He couldn't move
Every part of him felt heavy
Lying on the floor, with only the comfort of his own blood.
The dark shadow had fled, the drops of red water trailing after it
He was alone...
Death was his only friend.
He blinked, and he saw John, standing there in front of him. His shirt still had bloodstains.
When John opened his eyes, there was a boy lying meters away from him, paralysed onto his side, cushioned by a bed of blood. He knew who the child was, though George wasn't a child at this point in his life. He was a full grown man with a wife and a son. But as an angel, George was always a child. Because that's how John always saw him. Just an innocent child.
The angel didn't run...he just walked towards the dying youth and sat beside him, his transparent body rested against the bloodstained wall. He held onto the hole in his chest, the blood still staining his hand. it was still there. Fresh from the day he died. But it didn't hurt anymore.
George was hurting...
John just leant there, staring at the ceiling above him, as if he was staring back into heaven itself. George's face remained wet.
"Are you there...John?"
"Yeah, I'm here"
"It's been...a while"
"Didn't think...I'd go like this"
John's smile never disappeared
"My eyes are blurry...and my legs-"
"It'll all be over soon" John whispered, his calm expression never ending.
George weakly blinked his heavy lids which he knew would soon be closed. His breathing was getting weaker.
"Is this...the end?"
"No George" John's whisper had a smile in it, "Not yet"
George didn't have the strength to be confused by John's answer. He was already fading away. Into the black embrace of death. For he was certain he would die...
"Sometimes I dream..." he whispered so frailly he wasn't sure he'd make it in time to finish, "That I'd walk by your side....that I'd follow you into the darkness. The path is littered with flowers...their petals have faces...but the faces are smiling...and we too are smiling...as we drift off into a dream..."
The words left his mouth as cold air and they danced before his eyes, spiralling until his vision blurred. John's smile was thin.
"You're not going to die George" he whispered, "Not yet. The world still needs you"
"Are you going to leave me?"
"No...I'm going to save you"
At this, George groaned, and clutched his lower gut where the wounds were most deep. His hands were wet.
"Don't talk" the angel whispered, and his fingertips reached out and gently stroked the young man's fringe which instantly ran red. George's eyes closed again, feeling the immortal touch running across his skin. George could feel his last words coming, as the blood trickled down his temple and his eyes closed for the final time.
John smiled, his fingers still gently placed upon the younger man's forehead. He looked up at the moon, the light causing his eyes to sparkle.
When George opened his eyes again he was still alive and the paramedics were already outside the house. He could still see John's face before his eyes and hear his words drifting through the air and out into the sky above.
"Let us meet again...in paradise"