I run across the open field,
my head turning wildly, frantically, searching for you.
If only I wasn’t scared,
terrified of what I’d find.
Dead,dried leaves crunch beneath my feet,
hardly touching the ground with the speed at which I run.
My heart freezes as I finally see you there,
standing in the exact middle of the field,
left fist clenched at your side,
right grasping a single object,
too far away for me to see,
but making too much sense for me not to be able to guess.
I ran forward until I was five feet behind you.

I wanted to tell you not to do it,
but I was scared beyond belief,
too stunned to speak.
And then, in that moment,
I flashed back to the dark hallway,
staring into your eyes,
seeing,maybe,a trace of love.
This sudden memory urged me to speak,
and I said your name,
then again when you didn’t look.
But then you turned and met my gaze,
and raised the gun to your head.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
You finger slowly pulled back the trigger,
“I’m taking a bullet for you”