Superego (39 page)

“I'm sorry I tricked you. I'm sorry I tricked you into saying you loved me. I'm sorry I made you look like a fool.”

“Love doesn't make me a fool. You may think you don't deserve love—and I have been there, too—but it is stronger than any of our actions. I love you, okay? Not who you pretend to be, but who you really are. Do you believe me?”

I really wanted to believe. “You love everyone, though.”

She smiled and stroked my hair. “But I'm here now with you.”

It was hard not to think of her as a fool for coming for me, for not leaving me to die as I deserved. Especially after seeing what I was and after what I had done to her. But I wanted to believe her. I wanted to think I was someone worth her time and concern. I couldn't, but perhaps she saw something I was unable to. Her loving face did not reflect any scorn for what I was. I so wanted to reach up and touch her, but all I could do was stare at her as my life faded. “You're very beautiful. I don't know if I told you that. Women like to be told things like that. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

I hoped she would smile, but I saw tears streaming down her face. “Hold on, Rico. I didn't find you just to watch you die.”

“No. Don't cry…please. Please, Diane…” I could feel my mind fading; it was painful to keep my thoughts together. “Be happy. Please smile. Please be happy. You deserve that. You're not like me. You've already given me more than I deserve.”

I could tell my final moments were here. I'd had a lot of ideas of what my death would be like—sudden and violent, slow and pointless—but never in my wildest imagination had I thought I'd die with someone actually shedding tears over me. And even more preposterous would be that my last thoughts would be for the happiness of another. It was absolutely absurd…but somehow it also made perfect sense. I couldn't quite understand it, but it's like everything I was looking for was right there. I'd wasted my life pursuing nothing, but there was something in life of real value, and it was here right now, hovering just out of my grasp. If only I had more time to understand. But it was too late now.

I felt myself being lifted. Diane went out of view, and I tried looking around for her, but I couldn't move my head. Then everything got brighter—maybe lights from inside a vehicle—but even the brighter light was fading along with my life. I saw what I thought was a man standing over me, and it looked like he injected me with something, but soon the all-encompassing darkness overtook me, and I lost view of him, too. Without thinking, I called out, “Diane!” I didn't know why. I was alone my whole life, but now I was terrified of being alone.

I couldn't see anything, but I heard her voice. “I'm here, Rico. Don't be afraid. I'm here.”

I made my best attempt at a smile and relaxed, ready for the world to end. Yes, I realized now that I had wasted my life—had never even tried to make much of it, really—and given another chance, I would do things much differently. But death was mere moments away, and there was nothing I could do about that now. Instead, I decided to try and enjoy my last few seconds, feeling the presence of someone who actually cared for me standing by my side, strange miracle that it was. More than her presence, though, I thought I actually could begin to feel her hand squeezing mine. And then my final moments of consciousness turned to panic. Believing I needed to change my life and “better” myself were lovely idle thoughts before death, but what in the world was I going to do if I somehow lived?

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Frank J. Fleming

ISBN: 978-1-5040-0742-9

Liberty Island Media Group

New York, NY

www.LibertyIslandMag.com

Distributed by Open Road Distribution

345 Hudson Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com