I Don't Believe In Fairy Tales

10. Shelly

I feel ready to scream after Blake kept calling me. I wasn't going to deal with this anymore.

It was late at night. I was tired from crying and my limbs were as heavy as  boulders.

My dad had a gun in his closet. I can sneak in and grab it. He'll never know. I thought.

I open my parents door. Thank goodness we just got our doors recently oiled.

You see, my parents hate squeaky doors. As soon as one squeaks even the tiniest bit, they oil it. That is how crazy they are. One time I tried keeping my door sqeaky, but they wouldn't let me.

I walk into my parents room. I find the closet by only the dim light of my phone's light.

What did I want to be? I wanted to be me. At school I was some rebel. But I didn't want that. I wanted to be happy
Hyper. Jumpy. But I couldn't. No way.

I open the door and look at the shelves.

Why couldn't I be that? I could if I wanted. But no. That's not possible

I saw the gun. My heart was beating so fast, what was I doing? I needed to do it though.

I grab it and walk back to my room.

What am I doing? I thought.

I'm doing what I need to do.

I hold the gun to my chest. It's cold. I put my index finger and the trigger and pull.