Striking Lies

It was a rush of hatred mixed with sarcasm that killed her. One bullet to her chest and then another and another, until she slouched her way down to the floor, covering the white walkways with red. Her now leaving me in a cold trance at the tiny framed friend of mine on the floor, well that is until I looked up to the barrel of the gun pointing at me now. My heart clenching together underneath my skin, pulse raising as I attempt to make sense out of all this, and the brief illusion of a shadow on the wall behind her, all tease me when I’m trying to think if this is all true. That’s when it happens; his dark hair flowing in his eyes from his lack of going to the hair cutter and his violet eyes deepening the stare between the two of us.
Don’t shoot! I’ll do anything! Just don’t kill him. My thoughts scream at me, making my line of concentration grow slimmer with each word. Tears begun to fill the bottom of my eyes, my throat closing to the full extent, my ever so calm hands were trembling at my hips and the requirement of breath vanish from my lungs.
His hands run out to calm this girl, speaking softly and letting her know that it will be alright if she simply lets us go. And just as she starts to give in to his pervasive act, the fire alarm sets off, sending her in a protective fury of gunshots.
Hitting him dead on.
Felt like a bullet to my heart.