Racing across the warehouse, he found her lying in a pool of blood, gasping for breath. Not far from her lay her half-brother, his eyes wide-open and still. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t had left you alone.” He apologized, holding her in his arms.
“I-i-it’s okay,” she stuttered and smiled. “You couldn’t have known.”
“Just let me gather some stuff and you’ll be alright again in no time.”
“No, there’s no saving me. That knife,” her eyes trailed to the knife five steps away, “is full of snake venom. I love you.” She spoke her last words and closed her eyes.
Each week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple hosts Friday Fictioneers where we’re challenged to write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words, more or less, based on the picture above.