I have been shot seven times during the war, and I have the scars to prove it. Each time I didn’t feel a thing until the adrenaline finally washed away; afterward, it felt as if someone had injected the fires of hell straight into my muscles. But you know what? None of these bullets hurt as much as it hurts to see her run away from me.

This feels worse than anything I’ve ever lived through.

I’d rather be shot again.

I remain frozen in place for a few seconds, almost ready to just let her go. What good can it do to go after her? It’s over, I ruined it. But, before I even know what I’m doing, my legs start propelling me down the street.

It’s stronger than me.

Stacy and her friend are running as fast as they can, shoving people out of the way almost in desperation. It’s almost as if they’re running away from a serial killer. Which I guess is what Stacy thinks I am. And, really, can I blame her?

“Stacy, wait!” I say as I close in on them. She looks back at me over her shoulder, pure terror widening her eyes, and starts running even faster than before.

Fuck.

“Get away from me!” She screams, and a lot of heads start turning in our direction.

“Stay away from her, you pervert!” Her friend shouts, throwing me a menacing look.

“Let me explain, please,” I continue, once more catching up to them. Even though they’re running for their lives, I can keep up with them with a simple jog. They’re definitely lucky I’m not some crazed serial killer.

Realizing that her escape is becoming more futile by the second, Stacy decides to do something drastic. Without even bothering to look, she makes a sharp turn to her right, pulling her friend after her, and cuts across 51st Street. She throws herself at the mercy of the morning traffic, and I feel my heart shrivel up to the size of a quarter. What the hell is she thinking? She’s going to get killed!

“STACY!” I call after her, but there are so many cars honking right now that I doubt she can even hear me. Not that it’d make any difference, anyway - she’d just run faster.

And that’s when I see it. Speeding down a free lane comes a yellow taxi, a cell phone pressed against the ear of the driver. He’s waving the one hand that should be on the steering wheel, gesticulating as he speaks; in the process, he’s completely oblivious to the two girls crossing the street in a panic.

“STACY! WATCH OUT!” I scream, but she has already seen the car coming toward her. Except, inside of getting out of the way, she freezes up like a deer in headlights. I see it all happening inside my mind’s eye in a fraction of a second: shining chrome hitting her delicate body, her scream as she crashes against the windshield and --

Fuck, that’s not going to happen. Not on my watch.

There’s no time to think this through.

I jump over the hood of a parked car and sprint toward the middle of the street, the whole world slowing down around me with each step I take. My heart is pumping hard adrenaline into my bloodstream, my muscles tensing up as if I’m jumping straight into a gunfight.

I see the yellow cab closing in on Stacy, her friend and I, the roar coming from its engine like the murderous growl of some wild beast.

“RUN!” I scream at the top of my lungs, pushing the balls of my feet deep into the concrete and using it to launch myself forward. I stretch my arms as far as I can and, the moment I feel my fingertips brushing against the fabric of their dresses, I push on them as hard as I can, shoving them out of the way.

The rest is a blur.

I feel something heavy crashing against my legs, throwing me off balance, and then the whole world seems to spin around me. There’s the sound of glass breaking as I collapse against the windshield, and then I’m thrown into the air like a ragged doll. I see it all unfold at two speeds simultaneously - too slow, and too fast - and I realize that this might be the end of the line for me.

My body hits the concrete with a dull thud, and I open my mouth to scream.

“Run!” I repeat, my mind still working on auto-pilot. My whole body is still tense and, somehow, I’m still conscious. One more thing to thank the sweet adrenaline running in my veins, I guess.

“Run,” I say once more, this time the sound of it coming out of my mouth like a whisper. I feel my face touch the cold pavement, a crowd gathering around me, and then I see her in the distance - now safely on the other side of the street. She lingers there for a few seconds, just looking at me, and then she keeps on running.

I smile to myself and close my eyes, the cold embrace of unconsciousness finally taking hold of me. I have no idea if, once I close my eyes, I’ll ever open them up again… But what does it matter anyway? What use is being alive if I just lost the woman I love?

Love, yes - I love her.

I felt drawn to her the first time I saw her and, the moment our naked bodies touched, I knew I’d never be able to let go of her. That was my sin, and now I’m paying for it.

But even if I lost her - even if I die right here - it was worth it. And, fuck it, it feels good to admit it. It was all worth it just to know that, even if only for a few days, she smiled because of me.

I close my eyes and, with my mind fixated on the most beautiful smile I ever saw, I drift off.