Beautiful Drowning
by Amy Fortuna

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I gasp for breath and catch the scent of his skin, taking it deep into myself. Oh, I'm far gone, lost to the sound of his sobs above me. My body aches and I am in some slight pain, but that is nothing, nothing compared to the feel of his body against mine. It is the weightlessness, the complete lack of pain that warns me I'm dying -- that and the blood that seeps out of my body with every breath.

He's sobbing, helplessly, holding me. I am desperate to comfort him, but what could I say?

"You can't die, Danny! Danny!" He is almost yelling it now, as I sink into the sweet warmth of his arms, breathing shallow now, not quite able to get enough air. "You're going to be a father...Danny," he's whispering now, coughing between sobs and words. "You're going to be a father."

Oh no. No. I won't. And I laugh. This body won't bear me another few minutes, let alone another nine months. Inside the pain I almost rejoice at the thought, for now I can give him my own gift, the gift of the girl I thought I loved, that I thought we both loved. That Rafe deserved, not I.

"No," I say, and my voice isn't quite loud enough, can hardly make him hear through the sobbing anguish. "No." And he looks at me, face twisted in an agony of grief. "You are."

I try to raise my hand to place it on his shoulder, but the effort is too much. I sink back, drowning under the feel of his hands cradling me. With my last strength I strain to hear his words. "Land of the free, Danny, land of the free."

"Home of the brave," I think, and go out like a candle.