Shattered

        There is a gun on the table. I don’t know why it’s there, but its been there ever since I woke up here. The room is small, with mirrors for walls. A timer is built into the table, and the numbers have been counting down for three days. There are 35 minutes left now.  

        I don’t remember how I got here; I only remember waking up sitting in a chair across from a boy about my age. His dark eyes look as if they once had stars in them, but that they all blew up into dark nothingness. Not malicious, just emptiness in his deep brown eyes. He has a large scar underneath his left eye, and I think it makes him more beautiful. He’s staring at me now from underneath his chopped black hair. In fact, we’ve been staring at each other for three days. We haven’t spoken yet, but I can sense that we both feel like we are being watched.

        The only directions left for us are on a small piece of stationery in neat script, One of you must shoot the other. We’ve made a silent agreement not to shoot each other. The timer is making me antsy. What will happen if we do not comply to the demand before the timer runs out?

        Suddenly he speaks to me, so quietly that I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t seen his lips move. ¨What?¨ I ask.

        He says a little louder, ¨I won’t shoot you.¨

        ¨I won’t shoot you either. I can’t.¨ I tell him. It’s honest, even the sight of the gun makes me ill.

        ¨I’ve shot people before. I think it’s maybe why I’m here. We both must have done some bad stuff to get here.¨ He responds.

        I was shocked. ¨I’ve never hurt or killed someone. I don’t even know how to use that.¨ I state, throwing a nod towards the gun. He smiles at me, reaching towards it. I tense immediately, thinking that he has gone back on his word.

        ¨Oh, no!¨ he laughs, ¨I’m not gonna hurt you.¨ I sigh with relief. ¨I want to see what you really do know about this gun.¨ He slides the gun across the table and I stop it with my hand. I pick it up and it fits in my hand as if it were home. I can’t control the movements as I quickly load it, stand up, and aim it at his head. I won’t shoot, and he knows this.

        ¨What kind of gun is it?¨ he demands. He knows I know the answer, and I can’t control my tongue.

        ¨It’s a Colt 1911.¨ I say. My stomach is in knots, how do I know any of this? I still grip the gun tightly in my hand, pointing it at his forehead. He gives me a little smile, and I relax a bit. I set the weapon back down in the center of the table, and quickly sit in the seat.

        ¨Okay so you’ve definitely got a past that you either don’t know, or you are lying to me about. You’d have to be a pretty great actress to pull all that off.¨ he asserts. I give him a small shake of the head and stare down at my feet, trying to think of anything that would explain this. My mind has too many blank spaces.

        ¨I’m not making anything up.¨ I tell him.

        ¨Alright.¨ he says.

        ¨What’s your name?¨ I ask.

          ¨I've got a bunch. Which would you like to know?

        ¨Your real one.¨

        ¨Austin.¨ he replies.

        ¨Well Austin, I’m Katrina, and we’ve got seven minutes.¨ His eyes peer down to the timer, and widen when he realizes what I say is true. ¨What will happen if we don’t complete the task?¨ I ask him.

        ¨We might die. We might live. Maybe this is all some giant trick question. Like they are playing some mind games with us.¨ he answers. I sit in silence weighing our options, or the lack of them. ¨Shoot me.¨ He says abruptly.

       ¨No. It’s out of the question.¨ I tell him.

        ¨One of us has got to live, and I want it to be you.¨ he says quietly.

        ¨Austin, I am not gonna shoot you. You deserve to live.¨

        ¨I’ve got enough blood on my hands, Katrina. You might too, but I remember all that I’ve done. I can’t take another day of this hell. You need to live and start again.¨ Two minutes remain. ¨Katrina we don’t have a choice, you just have to do this.¨ Austin urges.

        ¨No! I will not!¨ I get up and walk towards him, taking his face in my hands. ¨We can make it through this together.¨ He forces the gun into my hands and shakes his head.

        One minute.

        ¨No. Austin, don’t make me do this!¨ I yell, slamming the gun on the table. His empty eyes glance up at me, he’s numb. The terrors of the world have taken all life from this beautiful boy. But there is always a hope for the hopeless. And I will not let him slip through my fingers, I will not spill his blood to save my own head. I don’t want my own head without him.

        We watch as the timer hits five seconds, four, three, two, one. Nothing. The mirrors begin to crack, and Austin grabs me and pulls me under the table. He shields me as the cracking stops. It is silent for a moment, and only our breathing can be heard. And that’s when I hear the loudest screeching, and the glass explodes flying in every direction. The room is shattered; we are shattered.