Chapter Text
New York, 1947
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You teeth chattered as a freezing cold breeze blew across your body, your wet hair sticking to your bruised and beaten face as your dark green dress stuck to your body like a sticker. Shivering, you were curled up into a ball and held your hands tightly on the deep stab wound on your stomach, the blood dripping out from between your fingers and on your hands. Though it didn’t help at all to stop any sort of blood from seeping out from any other stab wounds you had. Blood dripped out of your mouth and nose, and even if you tried to stop your crying and sounds of pain, it was of no use.
It felt like crying was the only thing you could do as doing such a mundane thing as adjusting your body or moving in any way felt like such a tiring and painful chore. Not only that, your ankle still throbbed from when you twisted it earlier that night as you ran away from those horrible boys. Although your whole body from head to toe was dripping wet with ocean water, you still could feel your tears run down your face, tickling you, and all you could do was shut your eyes as you were crying quite a lot.
Snot ran down your nose and you wiped it away but quickly put your hand back on your wound. Your blood was starting to stain the white sand you were laying on red and you began to feel a bit light headed (even more than you already were).
Then many thoughts flooded your mind.
What would dad say if he saw me like this? What would he think? For fucks sake I can’t die! I’m only fifteen! I just can’t!
You did the one thing your father told you not to do; go out while he was working. He told you to stay home and not make any trouble, and now look at what you did! Look at what has happened! You were bleeding to death on the beach all alone in the cold night. If there was a small little sliver of a chance you would survive, your father wouldn’t let you leave home until you were fifty.
Sure, he wasn’t the strictest guy around, nothing like your uncle, but he would still ground you and not let you go out with friends for a few days or weeks. Still, he wasn’t that bad. Though, you were thinking about when he found out about you if you did die. What would his thoughts be about learning that his daughter, his only child, his bright light, was dead. He would be devastated, that’s for sure. He would also want to track down those who hurt you and took your life away, and do something much worse to them than they did to you.
That thought, that you would be avenged, made you smile a bit. Your dad wasn’t the brightest, he did drugs and was a dangerous criminal, but he was still your father. He never let you go anywhere near drugs, did them around you, or let you in his work life. He did what he could for you, and spoiled you like the princess you were to him.
At that moment, you felt your body go cold. Not like the cold you already were but… something else. It was a strange, odd feeling, but it calmed you. You had no idea why but it did. At the same time you felt yourself grow weaker and weaker by the second, and a tiredness overcame you. Your breathing became slower and even more shallow, and your heart began to slow down. Your eyes began to close even if you attempted to stop them, but it was of no use. Then you began to see something, some sort of brightish light that filled you with hope.
”D…Dad… I’m…” But you didn’t get to finish as you then fell limp.
Death finally took you from the door he knocked at.