A man stood before me,
A gun in his hand.
His stance was wide,
His hands shaking.
Sweat poured off his brow,
He was shaking and the gun wobbling.
His finger planted on the trigger,
Omitting a light pressure, as if unsure of whether to shoot or not.
I wasn't scared, just shocked that
HE would do this.
"Uh, could you not point that at me?"
I asked, heart broken.
He shook his head, and gripped it tighter.
He started shaking more,
More sweat, more hesitation.
"Okay, if you're going to shoot, then shoot, I'm tired of
Waiting!"
I exclaimed impatiently, I don't know why.
Perhaps heartache, or not wanting to live if HE
Hated...me.
He hesitated once more, then police burst in,
Shouting and calling for him to "...PUT THE GUN DOWN!!"
I screamed, and a loud, BANG, was a deadly silence.
The world blacked out, but the last thing
I saw was HIM falling, blood coming from his chest.
The last thing I felt, was a pain in MY chest...
All it took, one bullet, two lives, lost love, a misfired gun.
No one should have died, and yet...here I am.
Dead.
