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Where do we go when we die?

The question that had been plaguing so many souls since man had the intelligence to make tools was, in fact, not going through Jimmy's head. The first thing that went through Jimmy's head at the sound of the shot was Did I just get run over by a bus? as he felt little more than what seemed to be a hard punch to the gut as he was knocked flat onto his back. It was after a couple seconds when the white-hot pain of the bullet kicked in. As he raised his head to look up, he noted the red splotch spreading on his shirt. That's when the reality of the situation hit him.

Oh, shit. She shot me!

Had Jimmy been able to think about what he could have done to prevent this (or more accurately, if Jimmy was in any situation short of this), he might have come to realize that he could have avoided this by simply apologizing and walking away. Of course, with a hole in his stomach, his thoughts had been driven from him as he, in a panic, tried to sit up, only to be met with a wash of agonizing pain, causing Jimmy to wince and give out a yelp as his head fell back onto the sand, his right hand clutching the bleeding wound in his gut.

This is it. I'm a dead man In a way, from the start of the game, Jimmy had been subconsciously preparing himself for this moment, as if he had suddenly become eighty years old and on the verge of death anyway. Naturally, still being eighteen meant that Jimmy still wanted to continue doing this whole thing called "living," but this was now of no concern as he started to feel himself weakening.

"Alan ..." Jimmy grunted. "Looks like she got me." (Wow. My breath is really starting to hurt.) Just hold on for a second! "I don't think I've got ..." Jimmy coughed, bringing up droplets of blood intermingled with saliva. "Aagh. Just keep fighting ... but remember ..."

As Jimmy tried to think up of the words (Weird. Normally it was easier to speak) to warn Alan about Reiko, about how she'd turned, he found himself weirdly unable to do so. Not because the blood loss was continuing to weaken him (Now he was finding it hard to keep his eyes open). It was actually the same reason that he threw away his weapon trying to talk Reiko down - it was that part of him that simply tries to see the good in her, and making him unable to blame her. When she had tried to challenge them, it almost seemed that Reiko was afraid of Jimmy, or at the very least, in what Jimmy was quickly accepting as his final moments, it was what Jimmy wanted to believe of Reiko. That she wasn't the bad person in all this. After all, she hadn't chosen to be in this situation any more than Jimmy, Alan, or the rest of the Bayview class had. In his heart of hearts, Jimmy could only find one person to blame for this hell on earth.

"Forget what I just said. Tell Reiko, that ... that I don't blame her. I mean, we're all just victims here." Come on, stay up! "The only one who's really to blame is Danya." Another cough, as he nearly passed out. Shit. "Just keep fighting these guys, and ..." Now his breathing was starting to become irregular as the blood soaked through his shirt. "... stay strong. Don't turn into one of them. It's what he wants." Stay up, Jimmy. Alan's counting on you! "You're a good guy, so long as you don't turn. Just ... just keep the others from following that path." You got it ... The pain was subsiding. He was feeling tired, though. He so wanted to take a nap, but he had to stay up, he had to ...

"Stay strong, Alan, and ..." He would have continued on about how Alan should find some healthy way to grieve, but the words couldn't come to his lips. He'd have told Alan about how he had adapt to the psychological trauma, but the thought of how to say it couldn't come to his mind. All he could do was look up at Alan and smile weakly as that tired feeling overtook him, and he breathed his last, and one last thought went through his head.

Stay strong ...

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Darken Your Clothes and Strike a Violent Pose · The Beach: North