• She gripped his hand tightly as they walked along the street. Smiling, he checked his watch and sped up his walk.

    “We don’t want to be late. We’ve gotta move faster.” He said to her and she grinned, letting go of his hand and running. He laughed and jogged after her. She turned around, smiling.

    “Wait up!” He called, “Come on… wai- no Stop! Get back!” He called after her distressed now. She spun around at the sound of screeching brakes and froze as the bus approached, it rolled to a stop just as it hit her and sent her flying a few feet ahead. “No…” he whispered, “Please, be okay, please, please live.”

    The onlookers froze as the young woman hit the ground. Her blood spread as the bus driver clambered out of his seat to assess the damage. A man stood behind the crowd, with a cell phone to his ear. He shook with terror for the woman’s life. He listened, speaking only when he had to, as the 9-1-1 operator spoke.

    “Please, just hurry.” Was the last thing he said, before hanging up and squeezing his way through the throng of people to her. He knelt down beside her. She was barely breathing. She smiled weakly at him and opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his headto quiet her. Taking her hand and kissing it lightly, he told her that the ambulance would be there soon.

    She watched his face. He was worried and he blamed himself. She wanted to tell him not to; she wanted to tell him that she loved him, but every time she tried to, the words would stick in her throat as she struggled to breath. Her words came out as a strangled cry, which only served to worry him even more. Since she couldn’t speak, she tried to smile for him. She tried and failed; her smile quickly tuned into a grimace as pain shot through her head. The paramedics had come had come and were moving her to the ambulance as quickly as they could.

    They wrapped up her wounds and plugged in an IV, working around the young man who hadrefused to leave her side. When they had done all they could, he took her hand again. All they could do was wait until they reached the hospital, but she was already fading; her grip on the young man’s hand was weakening. She took a deep breath; the effort that it took to take that one breath was unbelievable. She was sure it would be harder to take the next one. She knew that she didn’t have much time left, so she took the time she had left and caught his eyes. She smiled and told him everything that she wanted to say. Her voice was useless, so she told him through her eyes, through her smile, and through the gentle squeeze she gave his hand.

    She told him that it was okay, that he couldn’t blame himself. She told him to live for her. She told him to that she knew it would be hard, but she believed in his strength. She said that she would miss him. But, most of all, she said, “Goodbye. I love you.” She told him this many times.

    A single tear rolled down his face and he whispered his response, “I love you too. Goodbye.”

    She smiled again and let out her last breath.