The Gunman

Chapter Thirty-Two: Anna

I kept walking forward, ignoring Peter when it sounded like he was going to try to talk me out if it. My eyes would roll every time he opened his mouth. Nothing he could say would change my mind. My brother needed to be avenged, and I needed to be the one to do it.

It reminded me of when we were younger, and Tyler Hamilton took my doll. I watched him shove it in his torn up pocket, and walk away. I had cried, for days. That doll had been my favorite doll ever. My mother had gotten it two years earlier for my fifth birthday, and I had never let it out of my sight. Until Tyler had picked it up off the ground and walked away with it. My screams echoed after him as he walked.

A few days later, Danny had asked me what was wrong. I looked to my brother and told him that Tyler had stolen my doll, and I was too afraid to tell mom. She would yell at me, or so I thought. My brother just smiled at me, and made me feel better.

The next day, Danny took me to Tyler's' house. He started off knocking quietly and when Tyler's mom opened the door, he asked to speak with him. Tyler's mom led us through the house, and into Tyler's room. It had been a messy room, painted a dark blue, like the deep ocean.

Danny and I stood there, and Tyler just stared at us. He was obviously confused, and Danny smiled sweetly to the kid one year older than us. "You took my sister's doll. I was wondering if you could give it back." Danny stated, not asking. He was demanding, he was strong, standing up to Tyler.

Tyler started stepping towards us, and I shrunk behind my twin brother. "What are we going to do if he hurts us Danny?" I asked quietly, so Tyler couldn't hear me. My brother stood up straighter, and glared at the other boy.

"He won't." Danny assured me, and then he said, "So what do you say? Give me back my sister's doll and I'll leave your room."

Tyler continued walking, until he was right in front of Danny. Even though the top of Danny's head didn't even touch Tyler's chin, Danny stayed his ground. Not backing down, or showing any fear. "No." Tyler said then continued, "You're going to leave anyways." Then he turned around and walked to his bed, sitting down.

"It's okay Danny. We tried, can we go home now? Mommy will get me a new doll." I tugged on his sleeve, almost begging him to come.

"One second." He said, a mischievous look in his blue eyes, as blue as mine. I nodded; I trusted whatever he was going to do. Because I trusted him. He walked over to Tyler, and said, "Can we please have her doll back she loves that thing so much!" He said in a pleading tone, and I was the only one that could tell that he was faking it. It was something like twinstincts, I guess. Tyler looked unmoved, and just stared dumbly at Danny. He reminded me of a grazing cow in an open field. Danny took that as a cue to continue, "Please! It's the only thing she has left of our dear grandmother. When she died she lifted her hand one final time, and that was to give Anna that doll you are keeping." It was a lie, a big lie. And Tyler didn't even fall for it. He just sat there, the same look on his face.

Then Danny threw his hands up in the air, "What's your problem?" Then he turned around and threw open a drawer like he knew where what he was looking for would be. Sure enough, my doll had sat there, in the drawer, and Danny swiped it up.

"Screw you!" He yelled to Tyler as we quickly ran out of his house. Tyler had chased for a short while, then his weight caught up with him and he could no longer run. So he walked back to his house, looking defeated.

So Danny and I had run down the street, two seven year old kids smiling and laughing at Tyler, and all the things he had done. It was probably one of the best days of my life, seeing the strength on my brothers' face as he stood up to someone as simple as a bully.

My smile faded when reality struck. That little boy was dead, my twin brother. The one I shared secrets and storied with my whole life. The one that stood up for me when there was nothing I could do.

That was what kept me strong, what kept me focused on my task. I was nothing like my brother, I never would be. But right then, I tried to be brave, just like him. My breath came in angry bursts, as did the occasional tears.

If he had been there right then, he would have told me it was all going to be okay. Although, if he had been there right then I also wouldn't have been in that situation. I wouldn't be as mad, or broken as I was right then.

Everything would have been fine, and I would be outside with Danny right then. I would be asking if he was alright and we would have been laughing by the next day. He had that effect on me; my brother could always make me happy.

I remembered back to when I was praying in the hallway on the first floor, when I hoped there really was a heaven, and a God who heard my prayers. Right then, though, I just hoped that there was a place my brother could be resting in. A place with happiness, and peace.

And I wished I was there with him, not in the death trap that used to be my school. The place I would come every day and laugh with friends. It wasn't that anymore. It was a place where a gun could whip around the corner at any second and choose to end your life, or just make you suffer.

A gun shot fired, and I heard a girl scream. Who knew who that girl was, not me. It was just a small squeak compared to the sound of the bullet leaving the gun. Just like my brother would soon be a small squeak, compared to all the deaths of the world. To most people he was just a dead boy, a sad story. But to me, he was a miraculous boy, with a great novel. One that I would remember for the rest of my life. Right then, to me, his squeak turned into a roar in my ears. I wouldn't forget him, he would always be with me.