If I Had (A Work of Short Fiction)

Maybe if I hadn’t turned my back, things would have come out differently.

If I had just faced the problem, if I had just waited that extra second, I wouldn’t be where I am right now. Maybe if I hadn’t turned away the way I did, or if I stepped a little more to the right, or even the left, I would still be standing.

Maybe if I had waited for one more breath before I spoke the words I did when I turned to walk away, I wouldn't be bleeding to death.

I didn’t feel the bullet at first. For a moment, I thought I had a spasm. I remember thinking, “Was I punched?” Then I fell to my knees, as if my body wasn’t my own anymore. Realization dawned as I hovered, a prisoner to a gravity pulling me forward from my knees, that was no spasm or shove. That was a bullet. Pain began to bloom.

Time slowed down to an agonizing crawl. I had all the time in the world to relive the choices that lead me to this moment, to wonder what would have happened if I had chosen differently. I would hold my daughter one more time. Nuzzle into her blonde ringlets, hear her musical laugh, and tell her I loved her. Call her my lady bug. Remind her that she’s my best girl.

A wild thought ran through my mind the nearer the ground came, a second chance. If only I could get a second chance, I would do this over. I would make this right. I wouldn’t be dying. If I had a second chance, I could fix this. I would change things.

I landed on the ground. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. The only I thing I felt was the pain in my back, but even that had begun to fade. The light around the edges of my vision began to dim as the story of my life faded so slowly to black.

Maybe if someone had given them a second chance, they would take it all back. Maybe they wouldn’t have stolen my life. Maybe they would have helped me instead of running away.

Maybe if I hadn’t turned my back, I would still be alive.