Please Love Me, Mr. George novel Chapter 228
Dennis put me in the chair. Hank was already surrounded by a lot of people, and his blood was spreading widely.
I looked at him and he opened his mouth to me. His mouth was moving. I didn’t know what he was saying. I just felt like my heart was choking.
Dennis walked over to him, reached for his breath, and looked at me with a grave face.
I got up and struggled to get to him with what little strength I had left. Hank raised his hand and grabbed me. As he opened his mouth, a stream of black blood gushed from his mouth.
I shook my head, tears obscuring my vision. “Hank, don't talk. You'll be fine. The doctor will be here soon.”
He strained a pale smile, “Clara, it’s all over, next life I’ll meet you first, and you’ll love me first.”
I didn’t know what to say, just felt bad. My whole head was buzzing and my mouth was choking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so selfish. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
I shouldn’t have ignored the loss of his parents, or his feelings, or kept him at arm’s length, or ignored his emotions, or ignored the only thing he wanted to live for. I was wrong.
He chuckled, blood trickling more and more from the corners of his mouth, “It’s okay. I know you’re in a pickle. Stay alive!”
Watching him close his eyes, I couldn’t remember how many times I’d experienced other people’s death, over and over again, watching those who loved me and those I loved pass away from me one by one.
And I was directly or indirectly responsible for their leaving me. I was the one who deserved to die, to be hurt, to be punished, why did it end up being someone else?
I looked at Hank’s lifeless body, at Dennis’s cold face, at Yara’s cold contempt not far away, and at the passers-by who were talking and indifferent.
I never thought the world could be so cold. I felt like I had been stabbed hundreds of times in the heart. It hurt so much that I could barely breathe.
How could people die so quickly? Before I could think about his last words, before I could remember what had happened, how could he have gone?
As the paramedics carried Hank’s body away, I suddenly pushed Dennis aside and grabbed Hank’s hand to keep them from taking him.
But Dennis was so strong, he took me in his arms, and his voice was cold and subdued. “Clara, calm down, he’s dead.”
I stared at the pool of blood left on the ground, and suddenly I felt great hatred. Looking at Yara’s face, I said word by word, “Yara, it’s you who should die, isn’t it?”
She backed away, her face white, looked at me in disbelief and said, “Clara, what did you say?”
“You’re the one who should die, aren’t you? Why do you have to be alive? It is you who killed Gloria word by word, it is you who killed Hank with Yank and Gloria’s life, it is all you. All along, you’ve been the killer, and you’re the one who deserves to die.”
“Clara, what are you talking about?” Yara stared at me in disbelief and literally said, “You’re crazy! You are crazy!”
I looked at her sarcastically and thought she was utterly ridiculous. You killed three Gibson’s with your own hands! Aren’t you afraid of retribution? You drove them to death!”
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