My First Time, My First Love Ch. 2
Months past, and Troy and I were able to be together. Nobody protested, even his friends understood when he told them the news that he was going to stay with me.
Now with two money sources, we were able to even sell my old two room apartment and buy a separate house, one in the suburbs of the city. Nice and casual.
It had two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, a small living space, and a nice front porch. It also came with a nice small front yard and a larger back yard. It was perfect for us, or even if we had guests.
Troy was looking for a job in his category, which was mental therapy. Right now, he was just moseying around, going out to get job interviews and look for notices.
I, on the other hand, was working at my office for the Daily Sanctuary, the local and most prestigious newspaper in town. I was on the lower chain of command, only gathering small amounts of information and passing them up for someone else to review.
I left at around 7:30am and got back around 5:00pm, and Troy was almost always asleep when I left, and always back from his searching by the time I got back.
Our life was perfect. Nearly untouchable. Until one day caught me by surprise, and our life was living Hell.
I was interrupted in my dreams by the sharp sound of the alarm clock. I quickly turned it off and quietly got out of bed, thinking that Troy was still there. But when I turned to see the sleeping wolf, the sheets were nice and tidy and not full of wolf.
This is extremely peculiar, for Troy was always asleep until around 9:00am, but maybe this a was a special day for him and he would finally have a job. But why wouldn't he have told him the night before? This was strange.
But, who knows, maybe he wanted to keep it a surprise. Figures, interrupting his on-the-dot schedule to find a job, and to make me alert as ever to make it a surprise.
Oh well, I thought to myself as I went downstairs to grab the coffee that always brewed at 7:00am. I thought that some sign of normalcy would be there, as Troy loves coffee.
The coffee pot was brimming, full of coffee for two, and none missing. Now I was beginning to worry, as this was extremely unusual. I tried not to think about it as I drained the mug, and waited a few minutes to relax and then left. Locking the door, I went down the street, walking into the city as none of us had enough money yet with Troy unemployed for us to afford even one car.
Making my way into the city, around the streets that covered the area and into the small building that was the newspaper headquarters. I made my way up the stairs to the third floor, and walking down the slim hallways of desks that were full of clutter, I found my small area and sat down for a day of work in the office.
At about 12:30pm I decided to go on my 45 minute lunch break.
I left the office building and headed down the twisting roads towards my favorite coffee shop, the Vistage.
I came upon the shop and found my way inside. Making my way slowly through the line, I ordered a cup of coffee, a lunch bagel, and a small pastry dessert.
When I had finished my small lunch, hopefully that gave me enough energy to go through the day, I gathered up my things and walked out of the small shop, making my way back through the streets and alleys to the office center.
About halfway there, I started to worry about Troy again, and was keeping a watch out for him on the streets, looking for him as I thought he would be going along, looking for notices on openings.
I was so wrapped up in my searching, I half heard the shot as it was so muffled. The streets were not very crowded, so nobody seemed to notice but me, as I was walking right next to the alley that it came from.
Thoughts still racing through my mind about Troy, I looked into the alley with a halfhearted, glazed stare.
All of my worrying came in on panic though as I saw footsteps turn the corner. But that wasn't the most of my problems. On the ground, screeching in pain and writhing on the ground was a wolf, dark toned and grey.
I recognized him immediately as Troy.
I dropped everything, running into the alley with disbelief flooding through my veins.
As I was running, I was shouting ,"Troy! Troy!!!"
I finally reached him twenty feet from the alley entrance. I landed on my knees and propped his head up with my paws, mouth gaping and pupils as small as poppy seeds. Troy was gasping and struggling for air. It was then that I looked down and saw the blood spilling from a hole in his chest, running down his side.
I was also then that I knew I needed help.
"T-Troy, hang on, I'll be right back!." I stood up and ran as fast as I could to the alley entrance. I half slid, half stopped at the entrance, raising my hands above my head and waving them, shouting at the top of my lungs at the street-walkers.
"Hey! We need help in here! Someone call an ambulance!! Fast!!!"
I ran back into the alley, seven or eight citizens following me, and god knows how many calling an ambulance. I again fell to my knees next to him, propping his upper body up with my arms, and the others following me trying their best to do what they knew would buy time. My natural instincts for protection kicked in, and I was acting out of natural behavior.
I took off my shirt, ripping strands from it, and I told one of the ones helping me to prop Troy up. I took two strands off, and bunching the rest up. I put the bunched up part on the wound, blood still flowing and staining the ground and his fur. I ripped off his shirt, revealing a six inch pool of blood around the wound, and I pressed the shirt against the wound, telling one of the others to hold it there.
I put on of the strands end in my mouth, wrapping the other around the cloth and Troy's chest, tying one end to the one in my mouth, pulling it as tight as I could.
Hands shaking violently, I tied the second strand just like the first one, blood already soaking through the bunched cloth and Troy gasping and wheezing for breath. For the first time I noticed he was simultaneously bleeding from his muzzle, not a good sign. I also noticed the location of the bullet wound.
Right over his heart.
In the distance, I could hear the sirens of an ambulance, and I knew just a bit longer and he would almost for sure be safe.
"Troy! Troy!! Stay with me here, it's okay, you'll be okay, just hang in there!"
Troy spoke, but it was with a coughing, gurgling sound as blood come up from his lungs and stomach.
"I..it looks like--uhg--you're in my place now..."
I had no idea what that meant, and right now I didn't care, for the ambulance pulled up just as he passed out. And this wasn't just a deep, limp sleep, this was something worse, and I could feel it. But my resolve to not let him die was so strong, my mind told me he was just unconscious.
They brought a stretcher out of the ambulance, and I carried Troy until they intercepter, and we laid him out on the stretcher. The crew wheeling it into the ambulance, and me following. One of the crew began to tell me that I was not allowed in there.
"Are you his brother, father, any relations?" One of the crew asked me.
"No, no relations."
"Then you can't--" I cut him off in a flurry of rage.
"I'm the closest one he has!" I shouted at the one who had asked the question, and that seemed to tell him that I was not taking any more questions, and he turned his attention to Troy.
They hooked him up to a transportable heart monitor, and his pule was still there, but very faint.
They also cut away the temporary bandages, and inspected the wound. Then one of them stuck a needle into him and hooked it up to a bag a blood.
"Heart rate is 25 bpm."
"Give him some adrenaline."
With that, they stuck him with a small shot, and within seconds, his heart rate was increased slightly, but not enough. This also increased his bleeding from the gunshot wound.
The ambulance crew treated it up as much as possible with proper bandages, but the blood was still flowing, and not being able to control the bleeding was a major factor between life or death.
The hospital was also 5 minutes away, calculating the time to get him into an operating room, and have enough time to control the bleeding was decreasing every second.
All of a sudden, Troy's heart rate dropped, and the pulsing line on the meter was reduced to a continuous beep and a level line.
One of the crew frantically took out a defibrillator.
"Clear!"
It was hard to watch my love bounce up and down, unconscious and almost dead, blood flowing from his chest, and listen to that constant reminder of the death that was inside him with that incessant beep.
I lowered my head in my hands to turn my eyes from the sight, and began to cry. After five "Clear"s, I knew it was over, but my senses told me it wasn't, so I wasn't emotionally disturbed yet. But it was over.
I knew it was over, and I couldn't believe it.
We drove into the emergency area at the hospital, and the doors were opened by one of the crew, and Troy was scuttled out. I knew why they did this, so as to not alarm people, and to keep hope in the family members standing around.
I was the only one, and I knew it was over.
It took me a while to finally get out of the ambulance in my mental state, slowly advancing on the doors to the hospital.
I pushed them open, hanging my head low, tears plopping to the ground behind me as I made my way to the nearest seat to spend the night in, until I could get my head straight.
I was disturbed from my thoughts a few hours later, by some officers, and a doctor, probably the one who had been trying to save Troy.
I was brought into a secluded hospital room down the hall, the door locked behind us, and the blinds closed.
The doctor was first to speak.
"I'm sorry, but we've done all we could to save him. I am extremely sorry."
All I could do was lower my head and cry my heart out, that was all. Then one of the officers spoke.
"I know this is hard, but you have to give us as much information as possible for us to determine who and what killed him."
I looked up into the eyes of the officer, who was a tiger, a muscular tiger.
"I have been put in charge of his case, to determine the murderer."
"Thank you." That was all I could have said in my current state and understanding of the situation.
"Here, this is the only possession besides his clothing that we found on him." The officer handed me a rolled up, bloody piece of paper.
It read "U lookn fr a job? We can gve U 1. S ally of the SQ. 12:45pm. Tomarow" It was in pasted letters, those sent by amateur criminals.
"Have you tested this for fingerprints?"
"Yes we have." The officer replied with a hint of reassurance in his voice.
"Who's was it?" I looked deep into his eyes as I said this, tears staining my face.
"His name is Anthony Mjrello. One of continued violence and small crimes, but nothing punishable my imprisonment. Until now."
"Where is he?"
"One of our state immigration officers reported registering him into Colorado, about 3 hours before this alert for him was posted. We asked him if he knew where he was going. He said that Mjrello said that he was heading for Denver, just west of where he registered him. We have forces over there alerted now to be on the lookout of his presence, and to use any force necessary to take him down."
"Good."
"But just one question, why would Mjrello want to kill him?"
"That's one question you'll have to talk to him about when you find him. Because I wouldn't know a single thing. Troy was one of the gentlest creatures on earth, and just because some dumbass motherfucker wanted him dead for no fucking reason, he's gone. Sorry about that."
"It's fine, we understand. You should go home and get some rest. You seem pretty emotionally stressed right now."
"You're right, can one of you take me home? I have no car, and it's dark out."
"Thank you very much for the ride officer."
"Please just call me Ted."
"Alright, thanks Ted."
"Get some rest you, we'll need you tomorrow."
"Will do sir." Then I unlocked my door, and Ted drove off. I shut the door behind me, and the house seemed to unfamiliar, so dead. It always felt so alive having Troy here to greet me, him watching the TV, having the rugby games blaring, and him welcoming me home and inviting me down to watch the end of the game with him. His presence seemed to create an atmosphere of tranquility wherever he was. He was just so sweet and loving, and caring.
Which was now dead. I began to cry at this thought, and I laid down onto the sofa, the house completely quiet.
Troy was dead. The love of my life was gone and cold, blood stained memories now.
The warmth in my life was dead and cold.
The rose of my emotions has died and withered away.
I remembered when we came out to each other. "Even covered in your own blood, I though you were the cutest thing in the world." Those were his words.
Then the thought came into my mind again, and now I had time to go over it.
"It looks like you're in my place now..."