Did I do the right thing?

DID I DO THE RIGHT THING?1

CHAPTER 42

I stared down the barrel. Never this scared before in my entire life. I knew this wasn’t fair. I did the right thing. I did! He looked straight at me. I saw the pain. He didn’t want to do this. Tears for pain and torture fled down his face almost as an attempt to get away from this madman. My eyes followed from his eyes to the metal. The cold metal turned hot from his tight, savage grip. His breathes were getting heavy. No one was left in the café. The school café. Once they heard the first shot, they all jumped at the chance to leave. Leave us there. Leave us alone. The booth was all I had. I pulled myself to the far end. I looked across the table. Michelle. She was dead. Cold and ugly, she writhed with pain before the slow frost of death consumed her like the very winter of that month. Her eyes. Rolled back in her head. He got her. Right in the forehead. Her hair dropped down in front and covered the hole. Beside her, lying on top was grace. She was such a beautiful person, not 5 minutes ago. Now, the blood that flowed constantly out from her mouth was not too flattering. Her scream drilled its way into my head. Her evil, bloody-murder scream. But that’s what it was, bloody-murder. Her chin hung low onto her chest and the blood moved like a river out her mouth and down her brand new sweater. It had angels on it. Beautiful angels. Gory angels of death. 3

I reached for her hand. Katie. My best friend, Katie. She sat next to me, front row seat to this murdering show. I clasped my hands around her. Her stomach was tight. Breathes as heavy as his. I feared more for her life than my own. Not two days earlier my feelings had grown stronger. That night. That magical night. Right in front of that warm fireplace. Bringing me back, I felt a drop on my hand. Tears. She was so afraid. Whimpers were heard. Terrified. Petrified. Mortified. I had no power. No control. No control over anything. I dreaded what had happened, but what would happen next? Just finish us off? I would save Katie. No matter what, she would live. The pain. The mortal pain of a gun shot. It was nothing compared to watching her die. Senior year. A week before graduation. No, not like this. I looked back.  Nothing but…silence. He was quiet and still. A statue. A statue of everlasting pain. Erected in his honor. No, not honor. Pity. Erected for him…out of pity. He cocked the gun. He got nervous. His hand was jittery. Shaking. I hoped that this wasn’t it. That in all terms, he would stop. Or miss. Giving us a chance to escape. Run. Run like hell. His eyes closed. Tight. He is nose crinkled. A sour face. A sour person.4

Bang. Nothing. Bang. A scream. Bang. It was over.5