Page 118 of The Commons

“There’s none. I’d have to make one.” She rushes to the corner, grabbing some test tubes.

Terrified, I watch as she pours green fluid into a test tube, along with an orange and yellow bubbling substance. She shakes it.

“This has never been done before. That was a new experimental drug, meant to kill within minutes.”

“Please, try!” I plead.

“Just keep the cold compress on his head,” she cautions.

I nod, holding it steadily on his head. My tears drop on his face, and I wipe them clean, sniffling, trying to be strong, to be hopeful, to have faith.

But he is on the verge of death.

Pesh couldn’t die. Could he?

Doctor Val holds up a syringe with a pink substance, and time seems to stand still. My breath is caught in my throat. Every fiber of my being is consumed by fear as I hold onto Pesh with my all.

“Please, hurry. I can’t feel a pulse,” I sob as warmth slips away from his palms and coldness breaks into my heart—the same coldness I felt the day Levon left me. Now Pesh is leaving, sending haunting chills through me. Pesh, please… please don’t die.

“If I strike this through him and the pink flows through his body like the blue did, he has a chance. If it does not, then he really is dead.” Her voice cracks as she lowers the needle, striking it to his neck.

I watch, my soul trembling.

And to my utter horror, Pesh gets more pale.

I am stricken with fear. I hold his hands tightly, as though his life depends on it, hoping... He still has no reaction. God, please!

I never thought of what it would feel like to watch someone I love die before my eyes. I have never felt this amount of excruciating soreness in my heart, like with each stab he feels in his physical body, I feel a piece of my heart ripped off. I and Pesh—we had forever. We were supposed to live forever… we were…

“Sometimes this world is too wicked for a Commoner to live in. I can’t change his fate.”

“No, Pesh. You can’t die. Please! We had forever, you promised! You promised 300 years. Please… please, don’t leave me, don’t leave me! I love you. I love you. We just met… we just… you’re so young… you’re so…”

My Pesh. He did nothing to this wicked, wicked world but be born into the hands of a deadly man such as Londe. My face rests on him, sobbing, as Doctor Val looks down, sober.

I remember the first time he said hi to me with his powerful, piercing gaze and his obnoxiously commanding presence. I remember the first time I challenged him and locked eyes with him. I remember the first time he kissed me and his breath touched my lips. I remember the first time he told me he loved me and his soul crossed my heart.

I remember his gentleness was golden, it was never lacking. His confidence was unshaken, it was never failing. His generosity was grand, it was always sacrificial. His kindness was constant, it was always present for me and for the entire world. He was an ambassador of love in a corrupt system. He was one who conformed only to help those less privileged than himself. He was a consul of sacrifice, one who would give his entire life for his friends. Greater love had no man than this than one who lays down his life for his friend. Pesh’s soul was the greatest one of all. And… now… he was gone…

What kind of world did I live in?

I can’t breathe.

My heart. My chest. I feel like it is choking me.

I feel like I can’t contain this pain. My heart is suffocating itself.

I’m whispering his name, crying. “We had 300 years… we had 300 years…”

Then, like a dream from heaven, or like a voice in the clouds, like a susurration of every hope culminating in one tiny sound, a voice whispers.

“300 years and a day. We’ll live forever even after death, into eternity.”

It is Pesh. Oh my God!

I rise in shock, watching as the pink drug flows through his body. He shudders, a deep screech ripping from his throat as it flows through his veins.

Doctor Val rushes to hold him. “Oh my! My world. Take deep breaths, deep breaths,” she exclaims, stopping him from moving.