Can I do it? Can I shoot him? Dmitriy is dead and I feel the need to avenge his death. But could death be the appropriate punishment for taking away a life? Why do I feel so horrible? Why do I feel that something is terribly wrong?

We stand there frozen. I stare at those eyes, the cruel hands which have taken my love from me, the dejected yet mocking smile. Again I am surprised at myself for thinking for so long. Shouldn't he be dead by now? I look at Dmitriy on the ground. Still and unmoving. Hate fills every inch of my body, seeping through my skin, crawling like a serpent.

I have the gun. That horrible man in front of me is a murderer and stalker and a threat to my family. Yet as I look at those eyes I remember a childhood friend, fun-loving and cheerful. A friend who has admired me and supported me.

My heart skips a beat and something chokes me. I am sweating with panic. One wrong move, one wrong thought can change my life forever. Can I blame myself forever for taking a life? But can I let him go unpunished? Well, what is a better punishment than a life of guilt and contempt? If he is a human being then that will be the toughest punishment ever.

" Leave now," I say," Leave from here before I shoot you. Run and hide before I lose the control over my hands. "

Jason looks at me, the expression on his face a mixture of surprise and contempt. But he doesn't utter a word. Keeping his back to the wall he retreats carefully all the while looking at me in disbelief.

I hold the pistol and train it on him following his retreat. He disappears around the corner finally and there is nothing but a steady drizzle, cold winds and Dmitriy at my feet.

I let his murderer go. I am in a dilemma. I have half a mind to go after him and avenge Dmitriy. I feel so horrible. I feel weak and my legs start to shake. My head is reeling. I can see darkness closing in around me. I am going into a shock. No, I can't bear to go all weak now. I have to try to do something, anything. It has not been long since he was shot. Maybe I can save him after all.

The gun falls with a clank to the ground as I collapse, useless and worthless beside the limp body of my love. I am too stunned to know what to do in this situation.

I try to turn him over and my hands touch something warm and wet on his back. That's where he has been shot. Warmblood starts flowing again as I touch the gunshot wound. I look in horror at my own hands and my ruined dress and blood flowing freely from the gaping hole.

The blood of my soul mate, a blood whose every drop is precious. That blood is flowing on the road. I palpate his wrist and can feel a pulse, feeble as the ripples in a calm river. But there is a pulse and he is alive. But for how long? How long before his life ebbs out of him? I have to get help. I have to take him to a hospital. I have to fight till the last to save him.

Damn! Jason has taken the phone. He has hoodwinked me yet again. I can't call for help. Then Dmitriy is sure to die. I can't do anything.

No, it can't be. I have promised to be his. I will have to do something. The locality is unknown. I have to get into some household to use their phone and call for help. I have to do something.

First thing, I need to stop the bleeding. I have to tie some cloth. With lots of effort, I manage to tear the hem of my skirt and drape it around his bleeding body. I press it harder to stop the blood. I can't bear to look at my hands anymore.

Just as I try to get back up on my feet suddenly he stirs and moans in pain. I am horror-struck as my heart breaks all over again. Why does he have to suffer such a fate? Because of loving someone like me, someone so unworthy. Guilt floods my thoughts.

As I get up on my feet to try to manage help, suddenly his fingers twine around my hand. The fingers, long and calloused, the fingers I have always loved. That one touch makes me freeze. That one touch is what seems to say, " Please don't leave me."

I could almost hear the silent petition in his voice. Carefully detaching his fingers from my arm I drop them gently back on the ground. As his hands fall to the ground I feel a pang of sorrow, longing and love all mixed into one.

I try with all my strength to haul him up but to no avail. He was stronger and stouter than my body could bear. I had to leave him behind on the ground? Alone and bleeding, helpless. Do I have a choice? No.

Dejectedly I start walking towards the mouth of the alleyway. When I reach the end I look back at the empty street where he lay, where I have left behind half of my soul.

A/N Thank you so much for reading. Hope you are liking this story. I do dearly hope it gets through to the 3rd round of #opennovellacontest.Thanks to MaryFaheyfor reading and assessing my work and to Wattpad for giving me the opportunity to write.

Special thanks to Pipigrin and teamhathaway

Lot's of love to nana_gn.

Another person who introduced me to Wattpad TS__18