"stop!"
the words came out of me like a tire screech. when I peered over the desk, he seemed lost. as if he'd never seen me before and he wasn't sure what I was.
"please, robbie. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. please stop, just please stop."
my head throbbed and I had to hold it to keep it from falling off.
I was stuck in a nightmare I knew I'd never wake from, and I think he was starting to realize it too.
then when I thought I saw the gleam in his eyes, the old robbie somewhere in there, he raised up his hands like the crowd was applauding him.
"ladies and gentlemen. boys and girls. I give you the most horrid act of them all: the real life barbie!"
he crouched down to where I was sitting and pointed the gun against my head.
"so blinded by the limelight, she doesn't even realize she's a puppet on a string."
he sounded like he was reading from a script. as if he'd been planning it all along.
I felt so sick, I just wanted him to do it.
I just wanted him to end it.
I just wanted him to end the guilt that was slithering up my spine.
"just do it," I tried, but I choked on a sob.
"you think I'd do it?" he asked. "why, I couldn't kill you, I love you more than my own father."
"then do it," I pleaded.
but he put my golden ticket in his mouth and stole my only chance.
