Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the idea to write this. All credit belongs to Stephanie Meyer and everyone else involved in this story.
Let's see if y'all can catch the hidden theme behind this.
Enjoy!
You can hear my shuddering breath as sweat rolls down my back in this echoing, cold, damp room.
"Take a breath," He tells me in a deep, soft yet mocking voice, "Take it deep."
I breathe in deeply as I look at the revolver on the table between us. It's shinny metal surface winking at me. I saw it loaded with one bullet, and spun.
Now, I don't know where the bullet is. It could be the first shot or the third.
"Calm yourself." He says to me. "If you don't play, they're are men behind you with guns, and you die. IF you play, you play for keeps."
Another words, I'm screwed if I do, screwed if I don't.
So I take the gun, and grip the handle tightly. My trigger finger not even close to where it's suppose to be.
"That's right. Take the gun, and count to three." He instructs with a glint in his eyes.
His filthy blonde hair is pulled back into a pony-tail, and he has a scar running down his cheek.
I've been his captive for a just a week. This being the seventh day, he dragged me into this sound proof room that only had one door, no windows, a table, two chairs with a gun in the middle.
My hand shakes as I move slowly, lifting the gun higher and higher.
My mind goes blank, and it's a blessing. My life depends on that round being empty.
I take a shuddering breath as I lift the end to my temple, my heart pounding in my chest.
You can see that I'm terrified. And I know I must pass this test.
I put my finger on the trigger, breathe out as I send a silent prayer to the god I suddenly believe in, and squeeze.
Click.
I start to shake at the sound as I quickly yet carefully set the gun back down on the table.
I made it through another round.
He picks up the gun swiftly, confidently. He doesn't stall as he lifts it to his temple and pulls the trigger.
Click.
Crap, my turn again.
He grins at the sound as he lowers the gun and pushes it across the table to me for my turn again.
I panic more.
"Say a prayer, to yourself. Close your eyes," he whispers, as if he's trying to be sincere, then he laughs evilly and sneers, "sometimes it helps."
And then I get, a scary thought...
That he's here...
Means he's never lost...
And you can see my heart beating, you can see it through my chest.
That I'm scared so freaking bad.
My mind races as my life flashes before my eyes, wondering if I'll ever see another new day again. I imagine my family and my friends out searching for me, while I'm sitting here with this evil man playing Russian Roulette.
Rosalie...I never told you how much you meant to me. Alice, Jasper, Edward, Em, Esme, Carlisle, Charlie, Renee, their faces and memories with them embraces me in warmth.
Maybe one day I'll see them again.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath and let it out. Opening them and grabbing the gun again and lifting it quickly to my temple.
I've accepted that this may or may not be my last round. But with a spin, and two rounds in on a five round revolver, my chances are looking grim.
With the cold metal touching my skin, I clench my jaw as I hold my breath.
No time to think.
Everything stops, right before I pull the trigger.
A tear rolls down my cheek as time resumes again and I pull the trigger.
AN: Did you figure out the hidden theme? xD If you did -or didn't- all credit goes to the proper person (I'd say who it is but it will give it away).
Hope you enjoyed it! Drop a review and let me know!
Stay golden,
C.N.
