Decided to do a prompt table... This happened.. Enjoy x


#17 Weapon

Then he hit the floor, and I froze. I'd killed him, I was sure of it. I'd killed my best friend. I'd taken it and I'd fired it at him. Surprisingly though, his blood, that had splattered everywhere, wasn't what scared me. Instead, I was scared of myself, scared that I'd just killed a man without having a care in the world, and scared that I was now pleased with myself. And so I dropped the gun, and I ran, because I didn't need it anymore. I had just proven that. I don't need guns or knives, for they are merely tools of choice, used to drive the idea of fear into people's brains before that inevitable moment when it overtakes them and they drop. They mean nothing in a world of terror. They're not what people should fear.

For I, Dougie Poynter, am in fact the reason for my friends death.

And I, Dougie Poynter, am the weapon.