Teacup and Bullets

 

The world stopped in a blur. Well not stopped exactly, but went slow mo like when you press the wrong button on the DVD remote. Each person’s face was frozen in silent screams as the guys hand tightened around my shirt.

 

Then God pressed the cosmic play button and suddenly the room was quiet and the people were cowering. The guy spoke, voice filled with venom and the prospect violence. “How about you?” His hands tightened around my shirt, cutting off my breath, making me work to do something so simple.  His voice stank of alcohol and grease. Obviously someone didn’t believe in dental hygiene. I grunted, more of a whimper really. I really didn’t want to die.

 

My shirt was released and I fell heavily to the floor. The only sound was a couple of shocked screams and the low mocking laughter of my attacker. As the spots faded from my vision I tried to get up, using my hands to lift my upper body weight. “Oh, I don’t think so Sporto.” Breakfast club reference? Nice. Rub some more salt into my wound. I don’t think something as delicate as salt rubbing was what the tall guy had in mind. He kicked me in the stomach. Swinging his foot to gather as much momentum as possible. When the conversed shoe connected I tumbled to the foot of the door, coughing up blood and trying to breathe out a bruised stomach. I thought it was best if I stayed down this time. Play dead.

 

I closed my eyes, watching through slits between my eyelids.

 

“Aw, damn.” The guy said softly. “Looks like one kick can kill too.” Someone screamed, a sound forced out of the bottom of their throat, so raw and vulnerable that I nearly risked my life by standing up and hugging her. But I stayed still, feeling a bit like Harry in his last stand. I saw his feet walk away from me and then a shadow crouched down about 10 feet away. “It’s ok, sweetheart.” He said to the whimpering form of Billie Kendall. I could tell it was Billie because of the tell-tale purple sheen of her violent lilac hair. “I won’t kill you.” She whimpered and I thought I saw her lean hopelessly away from him. The room was silent, every breath, every move was like a scream. Gun guy chuckled. I heard his footsteps walking away.  “Actually.” His voice was soft, dangerous and it sent shivers down my spine. “I will.” A shut my eyes at the sound of a gunshot and I didn’t open them, even when the sound of flesh hitting the floor echoed around the room. The smell of putrid blood smoked my nostrils and I tried hard not vomit. Here was silence, the whole room in shock of what had happened. Everyone but one person.

 

Jonny, that stupid bastard.

 

“You killed her!” his voice was high with panic and fear but there was something underneath, something as cold and hard as steel. “Well look who’s the observant one.” Sarcasm. The teenager’s greatest weapon being used against them. Now that’s just cruel. “You aren’t sorry!” His voice was layered with the tears that were building at the back of his throat. Although Jonny could be a complete tosser the majority of times, when it really counted he was hard as rock and always made sure his voice was heard. Including in situations when you should just shut up and curl into a ball. Hint. Hint.

 

“Do you want to die a hero?” I saw the black conversers walk over to Jonny, who was standing up near our desk. There was no answer. “Answer my question, boy.”

 

“No one wants to die.” Jonny’s voice was resigned, like he knew what was coming.  I heard the click of the gun. “But everyone wants to kill.” I knew I couldn’t let my best friend die. My bones reacted to the sound of a bullet being thrown out of the gun chamber at a deadly speed and before I knew it I was standing on my feet screaming as my best friends body hit the floor. The sound was dulled by the rapid beating of my heart and the tears welling up at the base of my throat. Blood splattered onto my shirt, Jonny’s blood. This was so screwed up.

 

“Well look who it is. Sleeping Beauty. I thought you were dead.” In movies, this would be the time I would say something witty and sarcastic, proving to this guy that I could take him down.

 

I hate reality.

 

I stayed quiet, not able to keep my eyes on him. My skittish glances filtering pictures to my brain like camera shots. Too quick to process.  “Come on, Princess.” He said, stepping over my best friend’s corpse to reach me. “Say something.” His voice had lowered to a whisper, reaching a decibel that only I could here. I could see his every pore, each one as oily as the next. He had the whispers of a moustache on his upper lip. I licked my lips, gathering my courage from the bottom of my stomach. “Screw you.” At first my comment was greeted in silence, his beady eyes chewing my reaction. Then he smiled, a dry chuckle blowing through his lips. “Look who thinks his freaking superman.” I felt my stomach give way to real and absolute terror, as he placed his gun right in the middle of my forehead. “Let’s see if you’re invincible.”