A/N- More than anything, I would like to thank Duffy1 for the idea for this story. And also to thank her for letting me use the idea. So THANK-YOU!
What is a gun but a method for people to hurt other people? They are weapons that were created to kill.
But that's not why I hate them.
I hate them because I fear what I will do when I have one. Whose to say that I won't shoot someone? Whose to say that I won't kill them? There are parts of me that don't care about what happens to the people around me, as long as I personally benifit. It scares me that I can be so careless about others, it's not just taking their money, with a gun in my hand, I don't know if I will be able to stop myself from taking their life.
I hold it in as much as I can. I hold in the anger that boils within me and the spite that flows whenever there is a flaw or a simple mistake in something easy. The FBI are so slow and by the book they have no appreciation for art. They don't understand that I am not just your common everyday criminal. I do it for the art not for the money. It was never about the money. It, pure and simple, makes me angry.
It makes me angry enough to do things like rob banks and chase a girl around the world. And make stupid mistakes in the process. Alex. Sarah. The people I let in close and the people who could bring my world crashing down if they tried hard enough. People that my darker side told me to kill in order to protect myself.
Whenever I sense the feelings coming over me, I walk away. I seclude myself somewhere where Peter, or El, or Moz won't find me. Usually a place with plenty of glass. Because it's easier to clean window shards then it is to clean up blood and dump a body.
So in truth I am afriad of what I would do with a gun. I know that in the wrong situation, with a gun in my hands, I will do much worse than break a few windows and ruin a white shirt with my own bloody knuckles. So I stay away. I protect everyone around me. I am a plague to them and I must hide that part of me.