“No, you can't kill him.”
Both handsome, both tall, there stood in front of me two men. One I had dreamed to spend my life with, and the other had taken it away. There was blood, lots of blood, splattered on the wall, and in a corner, lay my empty shell.
Kyle, my lover, was panting uncontrollably. He was perspiring from head to toes even though it was in the mid of December. A shiny object, a knife, appeared in the killer's hand. Many times I had dreamed of my prince, whose memory alone had given me courage; however, I didn't wish to see him here tonight.
Knife drawn out, wearing a sinister smile, the killer approached Kyle slowly. During the last twenty minutes, when my nerves were frazzled, Kyle, five feet in the air, jumped and kicked the killer, from whom came groaning, as if he was confessing. Disarmed, the killer didn't look so intimidating anymore.
“You will pay.” Kyle picked up the knife.
I wanted to hold Kyle back but I no longer had a physical body, at least not a functional one. Killing him wouldn't bring me back, and I didn't wish Kyle to become a murderer. Down on my knees, I prayed, even I was already dead, when tears began to well behind my eyes, and I pleaded to God, “Please don't let Kyle to become a murderer.”
As if time had stopped, a girl in white appeared and spoke to me. “Your love have touched me. I will give you three minutes. His fate is in your hands.” For the very first time since I died, I could feel alive, again. Killer on the floor, Kyle in front of me, and behind Kyle lay the physical body of mine.
“Am I dreaming? Is that you, Eric?” Kyle broke into tears, tried to hold me, except there was nothing but emptiness. The killer, on the other hand, was stricken with fear, and became catatonic.
Time was running out. I knew what I must do, for I had seen what happen to the evil, and I didn't wish Kyle to suffer the same consequence.
“Kyle, you can't kill him. If you do, you will become a murderer and be cursed eternally when you enter afterlife.” I pleaded.
“Eric, he had no right to take you away from me.” Kyle shook uncontrollably, probably from anger, or fear, or a combination of both. “I will never rest until I avenge you.”
I sighed, looking at the killer, and remembered it was a rainy day, just like another ordinary day, that I died, on the way back from the Gay Youth Crisis Center. I didn't realized I was followed. As an outspoken gay right activist, I did what was right and was no stranger to threats. Kyle and I shared a similar passion: to support our community. We had been called names, but we were not craven. Kyle was my rock, my love, and my reason to continue to fight. When he smiled, my heart skip a beat. He shines.
“Kyle. I don't seek vengeance but only your happiness. Killing him won't bring me back.” I was saddened to see Kyle's face twisted with anger and sorrow. “He will be cursed eternally in hell but I don't want you suffer the same fate.” I wanted to reach out, hold his hands, kiss him, and tell him about the our dreams, but the clock was ticking, my life fading away, fast.
The knife dropped. Kyle broke down.
“It is not fair. The killer is right in front of me and you won't let me avenge you.” Kyle lay down on the floor as if he was a corpse. I laid my face against his chest, counting his heart beats and the minutes I had left.
“I have decided to be reborn. And if you are still single, we could be boyfriends again.”
“I will be a very old man.” Kyle smiled with tears all over his handsome face.
“Not just any old man but one with a very young beautiful boyfriend.” I couldn't fight the tears anymore. Kyle tried to dry my tears with the back of his hand but I was fading.
The room had become brighter and warmer, and it was time for me to go. I had no regret and didn't wish for Kyle to wait for me. There will be another man. A good man. Someone to console and comfort Kyle. I will be reborn, someone brave and strong, to protect the people I love. And if our stars are right, we may meet and fall in love again.