Chapter Text
As I dashed into the pile of people, I suddenly lost grip of Marco’s hand.
“No! Marco!” I exclaimed
He soon disappeared, and I was now stranded between a crying toddler and an unhappy mom.
“You’re the fucker who stole my kid’s popcorn!” She snarled while slapping me.
“Fuck off lady!”
I was starting my run when she grabs me by the hand and grips it tightly.
“Let me go!” I panicked
“Come with me right now and buy my kid a new bag of popcorn you stealing bitch!”
I tried to shake myself free once more, and I felt her fingers release me.
Dashing out of the slowly dispersing crowd, I saw a man cowered behind a chair.
“What are you doing?” I exclaimed
“Marco Rubio just tried to kill me! He’s crazy!” He said while trying to take deep breaths.
I wasn’t sure to be happy knowing that he was just here, or to be disappointed knowing he just attempted to murder someone.
“Which way did he go?”
“He went down the fire exit” he pointed at the exit sign.
I sprinted over to it and quickly tried to open the door.
As I jiggled the door handle, I heard a bump sound made against the door, and it wasn’t mine.
“Marco” “Is this you?”
There was silence.
“Marco?”
There was silence again.
“Fuck just let me in already!”
I heard another bump, and a raspy voice answered.
“I know you’re pretending to be my friend. You were consumed by the crowd, so you possibly couldn’t be alive!”
“Marco it’s me! Why would I be dead?” I explained
“Liar! You're just one of them in costumes!” He screeched
"Wha-" I didn't get to finish the word before a gun fired multiple times.
All I felt, was the warm blood rushing down my thighs. I looked down, and a small pool of blood was forming.
“Fuck!” I muttered
I tried to stop the bleeding, but it would find a way to escape the gaps between the fingers. I looked at the door once again and it became a different, lighter color. The door handle soon became fuzzy, and everything went black.
I woke up, and looked around. I was still in the same place I was before, but now there was no blood everywhere, no bullet holes.
I got up and tried to open the door. It wasn’t even locked, and I walked right through.
Lying on the ground next to the door was a disheveled Marco Rubio, crying. I looked down at him. He seemed to have the same revolver in his hand.
“What’s wrong Marco?”
He didn’t respond.
“Why are you crying?” I was more concerned now
He didn't even look up, just weeping on the floor
“I'll miss you Marco”
I gave him a final smile, before floating up through the roof, and past the path of clouds into heaven.