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My Final Breath

Shot by her husband who took everything from her, betrayed by her best friend, Alisha was reborn. This time she had to save everyone she loved, stop the man she once married from taking everything. She had to or else they would all die again. But fate would hold her in its hand, can Alisha fight fate and prevail or will she stumble under the pressure? She found herself at the age of nineteen again, however she wasn't ready to hold all the pressure piled against her. Alisha's own insecurities and past will haunt her until she can't recognize herself and her actions. How long will her sanity hold on?

Coco_Vira · Thành thị
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43 Chs

before my final breath (3)

Richard had cried to her about Annabelle's lover, three weeks later his arm was in the hands of another woman. Samara Winford, someone Bryan knew. She believed that Richard looked happy with her.

Samara was kind and lovely and their relationship had moved incredibly fast. Three months into their relationship they were talking about marriage. She wondered how people could move so fast because of love. It was true that her relationship was technically moving fast, however it wasn't the same as Richard's. It was more out of convenience that her relationship was moving fast, it wasn't passionate. She was happy for her friend but also wary of his beau.

Soon they were married and Alisha was waving her best friend away as he kissed his bride and jumped into a limo to their new home.

"I'm so happy, Lishie I'm so happy!" Were Richard's last words to her before he kissed her forehead and rode away.

Alisha tripped through the ashy remains, her hair covered in soot as she trembled and fought the dust, she stopped. There was a hand. She could recognise those stubby, stupid, lovely fingers anywhere yet here they were, covered in carbon. "Richy? No… Richard! No! No! No!" She ran to the fingers and tried to lift the bookcase on his hefty body. How could a bookcase have crushed him? "Richard help me! Come on, get up. Richy, please?" She gasped for air but swallowed soot instead. A fireman heard her cries and saw her try to lift the bookcase, he grabbed an edge and pulled it up.

Richard lay there, his face disfigured by fire, his skin gone. Alisha's legs gave away, she flopped onto the cement and dust flew around her. Her tears began flowing out faster, as she grabbed his hand, the only part of him left with skin. "Richy… come back. Please don't leave me. You didn't even say goodbye. C-come on! Sir, why isn't he getting up? Richard please get up. Richy please? Richy, please get up!" The fireman's heart pitied her but he couldn't help her.

"S-sir, please bring him back. P-please? He can't be gone. He's my Richy, he's my best friend. He just got married. I want my best friend back. Rich? Richy? Pumpkin? Please? Come on, we have to go to that party! Y-you were psyched for it! R-Richy, please come back to me. Please." Her head fell to his hand as she sobbed into it. How could this be it?

"Richy you have your whole life left. Rich-Richy please come back. Your whole life is left. We were gonna travel, come on, please, let's go travel the world. Richy please? Why isn't he getting up? S-sir, why? Why is it him?" Her screams of agony filled the ruins of Richard's dream house, the one he'd spend a year building. Bryan entered the house and found her by her screams, he grabbed his wife and hushed her. He stared at the body, an invisible smirk decorated his face. One gone, three to go.