As I jumped toward Samantha, I saw her turn and point the gun, and for a second I saw my final moments.
I realized that no matter how fast I reacted, how fast I threw myself unto her, Samantha would always be faster!
And then she hesitated!
I didn't have the time to wonder why.
I grabbed her arm hastily as the chair tumbled around, and we both sprawled to the floor.
We both wrestled for control as we stood up, and Samantha's finger squeezed the trigger.
I raised her arms into the air and the shot rang out.
The bullet went through the roof, and bits and pieces of tiles and dirt fell around us.
Samantha grunted.
"Let go, Zack.
Don't do this, I don't want to shoot you."
Samantha may not have wanted me dead, just yet.
But I sure wasn't planning on letting go.
I was blinded by rage, infuriated by the humiliation this girl had wrought upon my life.
With surprising strength, I pushed Samantha backward and she staggered.
She was wearing heels and one of them broke.
One might call it a cruel act of faith or perhaps a timely act of righteousness.
I have kept this side of mine a secret for a long time, and I'm not proud of what I did then.
But as Samantha stared at me with eyes full of horror, holding her hands out, pleading me to pull her to safety, I smiled.
A ferocious demonic smile full of years of unresolved contempt!
I didn't help her.
I watched as she tripped and fell against my bedroom window.
Maybe it could have held her weight years before, but it had most certainly lost most of its sturdiness over the years.
The glass shattered outward and Christina uttered a final scream.
Even now, after many nights, that scream still haunts my memories.
My room wasn't too high up.
If Samantha had fallen into the grass she would have had a good chance of contracting only some minor injuries.
With that hope still in my heart I edged closer to the window and glanced down.
My entire body went limp as a wave of cold nausea enveloped it.
Samantha had apparently fallen into a couple of bushes besides the house, I couldn't remember them being there, and I would only learn later, that they had been planted only after my incarceration.
Samantha was looking up at me with teary eyes her hand raised, still trying to reach out for . . .
Something or someone!
She tried to speak but the only sound that came out was a sickening gurgle and blood poured out of her mouth.
My eyes scanned her body and noticed the branches.
One branche had pierced her stomach, it's jagged end sticking out sickeningly.
Maybe she still would have been able to survive that, but as I noticed the second branch I knew immediately that she was beyond saving.
It had pierced her throat, robbing her of her voice, and her life!
Her body went numb and her hand fell down suddenly.
I fell to my knees and stared weakly at her lifeless body.
A couple of seconds earlier I was smiling, but as I saw the life leaving her eyes, and was confronted with the consequences of my actions, my body started convulsing.
People stepped out of their homes, most likely attracted by the sudden noise.
Some were already making calls on their cellphones, others raising them to capture a video or take a picture.
Years later one of those people would most likely recall the tale, of the woman lying dead on the ground, and the young man kneeling above her body screaming and crying like an infant.