The Lost Ones

The rain poured down on us, drenching my dress and hair. I stared at him, a look of confusion taking over my face. The one who I thought was always going to be there for me, who would never hurt me, was holding a gun to my head.

As if reading my thoughts, a tear slipped down his cheek, barley noticeable with all of the raindrops already there. He moved a stray piece of hair from my eyes with the barrel of the gun, placing it right back into the same spot when it was moved. His deep, brown eyes glassed over, causing mine to do the same. I hated how much I cared for him.

"Don't cry, little mama. You know I would never hurt you." He smiled lightly, sniffling.

I mustered up whatever was left of my voice. "Then why are you doing this?" My voice cracked towards the end, making me sound smaller and weaker than I wanted to.

His smile faltered, and he looked back at the group of people behind him. They all motioned for him to go on, pushing him to finish his job. He looked back at me, his eyes trailing from the tears falling down my cheeks to my visible shaking body.

"I'm sorry, little mama," he choked out before looking away to the people behind him.

A cracking sound rang through the air, and that was it.

Or so I thought.