Thirty Nine

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"Where" Punch. "Is," Punch. "She?" Three punches, he's out.

"Will." Levi, tone is strong and serious. "They can't talk if you're punching them."

"Fine." I say, grabbing the gun tucked into the band of my waist, and pulling it out. "Where is she?" I ask, pointing the gun at a bald man.

He laughs, then spits on my shoe. "Dead." My stomach drops.

"What did you just say?" Levi asks shocked.

"She's dead." He laughs, "Been dead for about a week now."

Anger fuels my body. "You're lying." I say. I hit the end of my gun against his head. "Where the fuck is she?"

"It was nice," he starts. "I felt nothing but relief when I pulled the trigger." I want to fall to my knees, scream, cry. "It's a shame she was so pretty though. That body, lips, wasted on a bitch." I don't know when my finger found the trigger.

"Will don't." Levi takes a step away from the door. I feel my anger start to dimmer. As if an invisible hand has reached its way into my mind, grab the fire of anger I felt, and was slowly putting it out.

"Levi, get the fuck out of my head." I say, and he listens.

"You know, she didn't cry." The man starts to speak again. "It's as if she knew what was going to happen to her, and she let it happen. She never fought back."

My blood runs cold, "Did you..?" I couldn't bring myself to finish the question.

He scoffs, "No. But I did pull the trigger, right after I held her throat between my hands and squeezed as tight as I could. You should be happy, it was a fast death. For the most part..."

I snapped, and I shot.

Everything I was for, everything I held myself to, vanished. And everything I never wanted to become, I did. I killed him. I was a killer.

   No one spoke, no one moved.

   I turn my head, pure shock is on Levi's face. His eyes wide and mouth open, I'm sure my face shared a familiar expression. Both of us, never expecting I would do what I just did.

   "He..." a voice hesitates. My eyes snap towards another guy we had tied up, much younger. "He lied." The boy says. "She's not dead, I don't know why he lied but he did." My stomach drops.

   "She's alive?" I whisper.

   The boy nods. "She's alive." My knees buckle, and I fall to the floor.  Next to the man I killed. I touch my cheek and notice a dampness in them.

   I don't know what caused my tears exactly. Was it the fact she was alive? Or the realization what I had just done.

   I look at the lifeless man on the floor. I rush towards him, taking my hands and putting pressure on his wound. "I'm sorry." I cried to him. "Someone get help." I yelled, but no one moved. I turn and look at my friend. "Levi please," I begged. "He needs help."

   Levi and I both knew the truth. The man was gone, and I was the one who did it. But hearing my pleas, he still turns and whispers something to the girl next to him. She nods and walks out, not before turning and sparing a glance at the body.

   "Why would he lie?" My body shook. My hands were trembling. No one had answered me. I look at the boy who told me this news. He winces when he sees me staring. His face was bloodied from my punches. I look down at my hands covered in blood. Blood I cost. Blood that would be stained there no matter how much I try to scrub it off.

"Why did he lie?" My voice grows louder and the boy looks down. "Why?" I yell.

   The boy starts to speak. "I think he just wanted to see you feel the way he felt."

   "What do you mean?" Levi asks.

   The boy continues, "His wife and child were killed. A bomb went off, a bomb meant for your people from the rebels. People were in the misfire. Someone he loved was taken from him."

   "But we didn't kill them." Levi defends. "That was rebels."

   "How much different are we from them?" I ask, still looking down at my hands. "I am no different from them. Both of us fighting for what we think is right. The only thing that kept me different from all of them was that I was not a killer, now look at me. I am just as bad."

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