I see him throw his gun down and rush toward me.

“Mark,” I croak. My vision is hazy.

I’m weak. I can’t hold on.

The pain is taking over and I can’t fight the black.

I close my eyes. There’s no fight. I’m too tired. She’s here, waiting for me with her long brown hair and chocolate brown eyes—she’s perfect. It’s too much. In the dark, I see her. In the dark, there’s no pain, no guilt—just her.

I focus on the warmth in her eyes and succumb to the numbness.