/Samantha/
I watched as the officer who was closest to him moved forward and shouted "Knife!" as he moved forward.
Knife? Where did you get that?
Because Blake turned so quickly, I only had a split second to catch a glimpse of the knife I had concealed below the towel that was on the counter. "NO!" I yelled out in pain as I struggled to free myself from the officer's grasp. It was clear from the look on Blake's face that he had made up his mind; he appeared furious, unyielding, and like an entirely different person from the one I had talked to only a short while earlier at the football game.
As Blake moved toward Henry and stabbed the knife into the side of his chest, it appeared as though time had slowed down and everything was occurring more slowly than usual. It was as if my entire world had stopped turning, and I was having trouble breathing and became increasingly anxious.
I was able to make out the cops' voices as they yelled at Blake to put down the knife, but it appeared as though they were so far away from me that I may as well have been listening to them while submerged in water.
As Henry leaned against the wall, the only thing that registered in my head was how he flinched and appeared to somewhat crumple as he did so. Henry yelped in pain as he pulled the knife back out of his side as Blake heavily leaned against him, and I saw Blake jerk his arm back again. This caused Henry to yelp.
Blake took a few steps back and grabbed the crown of Henry's head with one hand. He then jerked Henry's head back while simultaneously thrusting the other arm forward and driving the knife deep into Henry's lower back.
My memory is sketchy, but I seem to recall that the person who was holding me up was yelling commands as he slammed me against the wall and put his body in front of mine. After that, I heard a huge bang, and then a large number of police officers raced forward. That they grabbed Blake and almost threw him to the ground as they all physically jumped on him, holding him down as he fought and tried to get up yelling like he was a crazy person is what happened.
Nothing about all of that registered properly in my mind. The only thing that came to my attention was that my husband was slowly sliding down the wall, and his face was clearly showing a lot of suffering. I was unable to move, I was unable to cry, and I was unable to even take a breath as I felt my heart shattering.
My entire life was falling apart around me, and all of my ambitions and dreams were becoming increasingly insignificant as time passed. Every time he moved an inch closer to the hard floor, our carefully laid out strategies for the future were increasingly more difficult to implement.
My entire body had a numbing sensation, my legs felt like they were made of jelly and were on the verge of giving out on me at any moment, yet I had not yet taken a breath. Everything continued to go in a glacially slow manner.
Henry was still having trouble staying upright, and there was nothing I could do to stop him from collapsing. I was unable to take it back, I was unable to turn back the hands of time and have the knife enter my skin instead, and I was unable to save him from the expression of agony that was written all over his face. I was a useless, foolish, useless girl, and the entire situation was due to my own actions.
Henry had been injured by Blake because of me; Blake had stabbed Henry because of me; even the knife that Blake used was because I had left it on the side while we were cooking. Blake had stabbed Henry. Everything was due to my own carelessness. I would be even more to fault if I had been the one to plunge the knife into his chest personally.
I was going to have to spend the rest of my life living with the knowledge that I was responsible for the death of my husband, who was also my best friend and the person I loved the most in the world. When I realised that I would have to go on living without Henry, I didn't even want to entertain the idea. How could I? He represented everything positive that had ever occurred in my life, and ever since we had first met, my entire existence had revolved around him; yet, he was no longer in it. How could I possibly go on living like that? Although I was aware of the response to that question, I was unable to provide it.
When Henry landed on the ground with a thud, it was as if the blood in my veins had turned to ice, and I was aware that my hands were shivering. He was not there. I was by myself. I'd lost him.
The sudden movement caused him to sigh, and his arm began to twitch. My breath caught in my throat and my eyes widened in surprise as I realised that he wasn't dead. I forced back the sob that was wanting to escape and pulled myself away from the wall, but the officer merely pushed me back and pinned me there. What the heck is he trying to do here?
"Let me go! He's hurt, and I need to get over there to help him! I yelled while fighting against him in an effort to free myself from the confined space that appeared to have been created by him against the wall.
He shook his head and then instructed me in a very serious tone, "Just wait until he puts the cuffs on."
Cuffs? What the heck are those? It wasn't necessary for me to wait for Blake to get the handcuffs on since I had to go see Henry! Again, he groaned, and I heard a stirring of hope within me; please, please, please let him be okay; please, I'll do anything, anything in the world; please let him be okay.
"Stay off of me! Let me go!" I yelled as I tried to get under his arm while simultaneously ducking down.
If he didn't let me go, I was going to knee him where the sun doesn't shine; there was no way he could keep me away from Henry. He easily restrained me since he was so unbelievably powerful. I diverted my gaze in the direction of Blake as he looked back over his shoulder. He looked back over his shoulder.
While he was shouting that it wasn't his fault, that Henry deserved it, that he had broken into this place and attacked him, and that he was acting in self-defense, the two police officers were still attempting to restrain him. I heard the click of the handcuffs, and then they pulled him to his feet and shoved him face first into the wall, causing him to hiss in pain.
One of the officers yelled, "He's safe!" as the others surrounded him. After he moved Blake slightly, I noticed a spot of blood on the wall close to where he had been standing. Could it have been his blood? They'd shot him, hadn't they? To be honest, I thought those guns they were holding were Tasers and not actual firearms. If they were armed, there was no reason they couldn't have shot him before he stabbed the other person. They had the ability to stop him before he could injure Henry!
I turned my head around and glared aggressively at the guy who was holding me. "Now you may let me go! I can't wait to talk to Henry! I bawled my eyes out desperately.
He gave me a slight nod and then released his grip on me. For a split second, I wobbled unsteadily on my feet, and I wasn't even certain I could stand on my own. Even though he was trying to stabilise me by grabbing my arm, all I could think of was Henry.
I broke free of his embrace and rushed across the room, coming dangerously close to collapsing at his feet. He was heaving and taking in choppy, shallow breaths in between gasps. He appeared to be something out of a horror movie with his eyes tightly screwed shut and blood splattered all over his shirt, where it was soaking into the white fabric and giving him the appearance of a bloody mess.
While I anxiously tried to figure out what I should do, I knelt down in front of him and brushed his hair behind his ears. Should I apply pressure, or would that make the situation much more difficult? Should I turn him over onto his back, or will it make it more difficult for him to breathe? I'm not sure.
“Henry? Baby, are you there? Can you hear me? I'm here; everything is going to turn out all right. I muttered a prayer to God as I removed his hair from his forehead and combed it back. "Oh God, please be okay."
He moaned, and I noticed that his eyelids were blinking rapidly, as though he was trying to open them. I could feel the waves of sorrow and dread brought on by the scenario, but I made up my mind not to let them overcome me. It was imperative that I maintain my composure for him because he depended on me, and I resolved that I would not give in to my sorrow in his presence.
Despite the fact that the dark stain on his shirt was getting bigger and bigger with each passing second as he lost more blood, he had to convince himself that everything was going to be well. I looked up at the officers; two of them were leading Blake out of the room while he continued to cry that he hadn't done anything wrong. They were virtually dragging him along as they led him out of the room.