Thea Engzén


17, Sthlm, Passion for figure skating, music and writing

Message from Writer

The difference between a hobby and a passion:
When you have a hobby, you practise when you feel like it.
When you have a passion, you practice even when you don't want to.

Enough time

December 15, 2018


    I will never forget the sound of a gunshot. The silent click of a trigger, and then a piercing yet deafening sound. It was over before I had the chance to react. One second he was standing next to me, the next his body is shielding mine, and the third he's lifeless in my arms. 

    Time moved so strangely that night. We were walking through a dark passage. Hand in hand we were laughing and it felt as though the night would never end, and I didn't want it to.    

    We never even noticed that we’d walked straight into a staredown between two groups of people. They started yelling and pulled out weapons. Their words went in slow motion, and as if someone pushed a 'fast forward' button, morning was there and I was alone.    
    If I could go back in time, If I could relive a minute of my life, I would go back to this moment: an evening in bed, just before falling asleep. Sharing dreams of our futures, eager to meet tomorrow and all the opportunities it would bring. Madly in love, blissfully unaware.    

     The men fled the scene as I screamed in anguish, desperate for someone to come help me. I pressed my hands to his wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Wishing that someone had called an ambulance. Hoping that he could stay awake for fifteen more minutes, enough for the ambulance to arrive. Hoping that he could stay awake for just twenty more minutes, enough for paramedics to stop his bleeding. Hoping that he could stay awake for forty more minutes, enough for a doctor to take out the bullet and stitch him together.

    But all I can do now is imagine him living just another fifty years, enough for us to grow old together. Imagine him living just another thirty years, enough for us to see our kids grow up. Imagine him living just another fifteen years, enough for us to buy a house and get married. Just another five years, for us to grow up. Another year, for us to graduate. A minute, to tell him I love him.


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