Somewhere deep down, it registered that someone was shaking me, saying things to me, but I was toofar-gone to feel and long past hearing.
Myeyes slivered open and the last thing they saw was Finn’s face, his expression frantic as his lips mouthed my name over and over.
I tried to smile at him, to let him knowthat it was okay, because he’d lived – he’d have a future, even if I weren’t around to share it.
I tried to put theI love youinto my eyes, before the dark embraced me.
Heclutched me to his chest, his tears falling like rain onto my face.
And I died.
Epilogue
After
Life doesn’t always turn out the way we think it will.
It isn’t a fairytale, and there isn’t always a happy ending. Sometimes, there isn’t a happy beginning or middle, either.
Buthere’s the thing: it doesn’t matter.
Because when you’re lying there, asphyxiated and lifeless, your life doesn’t flash before your eyes like a running movie reel of regrets. It’s not the big picture you see – all the things that went wrong, all the mistakes you made, all the experiences you missed out on.
What you see aremoments.
Flashes of time, no matter how fleeting, when you were happy.
What you see arefaces.
Glimpses of the people who gave a shit, who loved you in spite of all your crap.
What you see isyourself.
The things you did right. The times you were proudmeet your own eyes in the mirror. The moments you knew exactly who you were, and where you belonged.
So, I guess when itcame down to it, my story was really a love story. Not the one you’d expect – not the one about Finn and me.
It was a story about a girl falling in love with herself. It was about me learning to accept the woman I’d become, flaws and all. Because everybody’s a little bit fucked up – that’s life. And maybe there aren’t any happily ever afters, or white knights who ride in on valiant steeds to save the day. Maybe, in real life, Prince Charming isn’t always perfect –he’s just as flawed as everyone else in the tale.
And that princess, alone in her tower? She’s not perfect either. Birds don’t braid her hair every morning, she can’t serenade wild forest creatures into servitude, and she doesn’t even own a ball gown. But she’s also smart enough to know not to accept poisoned apples from strangers, or prick her finger on deadly spindles.
She doesn’t wait around for a prince to charge in and slay the dragon. Maybe she saves herself and in the end, rides off into her own goddamned sunset.
I don’t know,it’s just a theory.
And thankfully, I don’t have to have it all figured out yet; I’ve got my whole life ahead of me to do that.
When I woke up in the hospital, Finn was there. I’d been out for almost 24 hours, and for a while they’d thought I might never regain consciousness. Finn had saved my life, doing CPR until the paramedics arrived.
Myheart stopped twice that day; I was lucky to be alive.
Ernie Skinner wasn’t so lucky.
The knife wound had sliced deeply, rupturing too many internal organs to fix. He’d nearly bled out by the time the paramedics arrived, and had been pronounced dead at the hospital.
Since I’d woken, I’d had a near-constant parade of visitors, starting with the police. Officers Carlson andO’Callahan took my statement, thanking me on behalf of the Charlottesville PD for my service to the community in removing not only a parole violator, but also a dangerous criminal from the area. On their way out the door, Officer Carlson had wished me a speedy recovery, adding, “Brooklyn, for your sake, I hope this is our last meeting.”
I laughed and waved goodbye, sharing his sentiments completely.