Day 64 after the accident – Outside the shed – h. 2.35 a.m.

“Come on… Come on, Carmen…”, I say panting, bearing her.
She’s so weak.
She moves so slowly.
And despite this, her will is so strong, her eyes so determined that I can’t help but admire her.
“I’m sorry Bette…”, she whispers, her fist stubbornly tightened on my jacket.
“Don’t be…”.
Panting, panting.
“No, I mean… I’m sorry you got embroiled in this…. All of you guys…I wish I could make it on my own…”, she says, growing paler.
“It’s okay… It’s okay… We’re almost there…”.

Day 64 after the accident – The shed – 2.38 a.m.

“Shane, put it down”, he says.
I don’t answer.
“Shane, please… Put it down, I know you don’t want to do that”.
“You’re wrong. I really want to do that”, and I dry my eyes with the back of my hand.
Dante glances at Marshall. His breath is heavy, his big belly moves fast at the rhythm of the impossible tension.
“Shane. He is OD’ing. Come over here and let me take care of him”. Marshall’s voice sounds calm, but it’s obviously nervous and worried.
As far as I’m concerned, I’m feeling like a rat in a cage and I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore.
I look at John James Sanders, on the floor.
His jeans are stained with mud and dirt. His head is bent, chin resting on his chest.
He is frothing at the mouth and the needle is right beside him.
He lost consciousness and I know he’s OD’ing.
And right now I hate him, I hate him because he’s not awake and doesn’t look at me.
“Dante”, Marshall whispers, “Dante, say something. Do something!”. He has his teeth clenched.
“Holy shit, you let her take your gun!” he whispers back to him, nodding in my direction.
“She’s been quick. I’m getting old for these bullshits”.
Dante murmurs something in Italian and moves a couple of steps towards me.
“Hey buddy” he says with a cautious smile – but he’s sweating profusely, I see it – “Buddy… Why don’t you give me that gun?”.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Dante…”, I answer.
“I’m not. I am your friend”.
“I don’t even know who you are”.
“Well, if you shoot him, you’ll never know”.
I make a face.
“Who cares”.
He sighs and licks his dry lips.
“You’re right. But what about Carmen? What about your friends, your family?”.
“Carmen is at the hospital”, I say, shaking my head and starting to cry again.
“Carmen needs you by her side”.
Dante is playing sappy, now. Is he trying to trick me?
I blink repeatedly as a new set of tears rolls down my face. This gun feels suddenly so heavy in my hand.
Dante lends his hand.
“Give it to me”.
“Give it to Dante”, Marshall echoes.
“Carmen is at the hospital”, I repeat, like once is not enough.
“She needs you by her side”, he repeats, like once is not enough.
“I’m in too deep”, I sob and dry eyes with my sleeve.
“I can’t let go”.
“You can let go, that’s why I’m here”, Dante states, and sounds so comforting.
But I say.
“It’s too late”.
“No, it’s not. Nothing’s gonna happen if you give me that gun. We’ll take care of everything and –“.
“…And you really think I’ll pretend nothing happened?”, I interrupt him, shouting.
“Shane”.
“What the fuck do you want from me? Huh!?”.
My whole body shakes.