This was it. This was my chance to make it out of here. This was my chance to go home. I stared at Harry as he slept peacefully. Unaware of his surroundings. My hand was shaking as I held the gun in my now sweaty hands.
Do it. Just pull the trigger.
Tears were rolling down my cheek, my finger hovered over the trigger.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and before I knew it, my finger had pulled the trigger causing my heart to drop. I gasped loudly when I realized what had happened.
—————————————————
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The gun had went off. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Groans were escaping Harrys mouth, from pain. I shot him. I shot him in the his shoulder.
Oh my god, what did I do?
"What the fuck Dawn!" He yelled, gripping his left shoulder in pain. I stood there frozen in my spot, the gun still in my hand. Blood started to stain Harrys shirt as he held pressure into his injury.
"What the hell is going on?" Louis yelled while barging through the door of the room. He looked at me, then the gun in my hand, then at Harry. His eyes went wide with realization.
"Don't just stand there, Louis. Take the fucking gun from her." He groans in frustration. Before I could comprehend what he said, Louis snatched the gun from my hand placing it in the waistband of his pants. "And call Dr. Fields." He added.
I almost felt bad for shooting Harry. He wasn't suppose to be in pain. He was suppose to be dead. I was aiming for his cold, black heart. Clearly I needed to work on my aiming.
"I'm already on it, lad." Louis says while dialing a number onto his phone.
I look back over at Harry to see that he's looking right at me. His expression was hard. Intimidating. The groans stopped leaving his mouth. He was silent. His lips were pressed into a tight line. His eyes were dark.
I've really done it this time. I've pushed him further than I ever thought he could go. To the point where he was silent.
Silence is the worst type of angry or sadness someone could come across. It's speaks so much more words than you would think. More than if the person was screaming their head off.
I don't know if I should be relieved that he hasn't screamed his head off at me, or afraid because of how quiet he is.
"You just never learn do you?" He asked calmly. He stood from his spot on the bed, still applying pressure to his shoulder with his right hand. He comes to stand right in front of me, I'm too afraid to move. My feet feel like they're stuck to the ground.
He looks me in my eyes before saying, "You're gonna fucking pay."
He moves past me before leaving my room and slamming the door shut behind him and locking it.
