The decision I came to made me sick to my stomach, but the circumstances made it the only option. Rihanna, my best friend, my damn soul, was expendable if I had to pick between her and the love of my life.
I avoided eye contact with her. I felt like I was holding in a terrible secret. And I felt like a coward, hiding it away from her. Instead, I looked at Carter.
"I can't have a baby without a father," I rationalized.
Still, I continued to look away from her. Afraid of what I'd see. Ashamed to read what her eyes would say to me.
"Say who you pick," Michelle yelled, gun pointed at Carter.
"I'm so sorry," I cried.
"PICK," Michelle shouted.
"Rihanna," I said, before sobbing pathetically. Still refusing to look my friend in the eye.
"I don't want to die," she cried, to deaf ears, as neither me nor Carter could save her.
"I can't die," she repeated. "What about my son? Beyonce, look at me. You are going to kill me? Choose me to fucking die? After all we've been through? After all we have experienced?"
I wept, as image after image of our time together flooded my mind. Photo-books full of memories and experience. None of it seemed to matter anymore. It all seemed like one big waste.
"Look at me dammit. If you are going to pick me, then don't be a fucking coward about it."
I turned to face her. Her eyes were cold. Teary, but anger seemed to rule her, not sadness.
"A lot of people have let me down," she said. "So many people. But know one has ever disappointed me as much as you have. Live with that."
"I'll take care of Josh, Rih. I promise," I cried, hoping to salvage something from our friendship.
"He doesn't need you," she spat.
"This is pretty sad," Michelle said. "And I've always hated you Rih. But even for me, this is sad."
"Do what the fuck you are going to do," Rihanna said, turning away from me, and dropping her head to her chest, awaiting the sound of her demise.
"I thought of a better solution," Michelle said. "Something that fits this occasion."
She looked me over and grinned.
"What?" I asked.
"You just picked your fucking soul mate to die. How fucked up is that, Beyonce?"
"I don't wanna pick anyone!" I screamed.
"But when backed into the wall you did. And it's sickening. And I know it's most sickening for Rihanna. Which is why I'm not going to kill her. This feeling she has is worse than death. I know it is. Knowing your best friend picked for you to die. She's going to live the rest of her life knowing that."
There was a noise at the door, causing us all to turn. Wallace had walked in. Before he could even wrap his head around the scene, Michelle had shot him in the leg. He hit the ground, and tried rolling for cover.
"Wallace!" I screamed before running toward the step instinctively.
Michelle met me there and slapped me in the face with the gun, causing me to come crashing down to the ground. Her sick smile made me forget about the pain, as I gathered myself to my knees.
"Watch this Rihanna. You'll love it," Michelle smiled before pointing the gun at me.
I heard Wallace yell out my name, as I stared down the hollow hole of the gun. Bright light and loud bang. It went off. I was directly in front of it.
