When I was twelve, I learned to stop leaning on others.

Before, I was made alone. Now I've chosen it.

I like to think there's a significant difference between the two.

Pure pandemonium.

The silent kind, with tension thicker than the air you need to breathe. One filled with boats of emotion that slip and slide in the torrent of waves out in the problem. The frozen kind, where everyone is just holding their breaths and waiting for that load of happy laughter that signals the prank has been completed.

But there is no prank and the only type of laughter that is echoing the walls is His. It is the malicious kind that sends shivers down your spine and your gag reflex going.

The hand that is holding the knife against my throat is steady and the hold he has on my hip is strong and unwavering. Although his body is shaking slightly with that laughter, I know it is fake.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He calls to the crowd, enjoying and feeding off their high emotions that range from shock to anger. "The first meeting between mother and daughter in—what, sixteen years? I'm so happy that I'm here to see it." His laughter is the only one, it echoes disturbingly on the walls.

I start to think through my options and none are good. I am determined that the outcome must be death for Him.

I almost flinch at the cool, hard, disturbing thoughts of how I can torture him. I almost enjoy it.

My hand twitches.

But he notices, his grip tightens at the dagger that slightly digs into my neck in warning. A trickle of blood slowly creeps down the side of his neck. His warming is received.

I slowly let out a breath and clasp my hands behind my back.

I let out a few curse words in half a dozen languages silently.

And then there was the battle call.

You may be thinking, what the (Insert chosen foreign curse word here); but I am absolutely one hundred percent serious.

Less than a second later a gun shot went off.

He falls to the fall, all bravado wasted away. His knife hits the ground with a clang.

I can see my mom rushing towards me followed closely behind by Mr. Smith. I had only taken one step before the second gun shot when off.

I looked around, wondering where the second bullet lodged itself but then I take a gasping breath. With the world in blurs I fall to the floor.

The last image I have before passing out is an image I know I can never erase.

My face lay to the side with my cheek against the cold ground. My face the same level as his as I watched him struggle to take his last breath, an eerie smile on his face, a secret in his obsidian eyes before they stay wide and vacant.

If I didn't have so much trouble breathing, I would've screamed.

Instead, I passed out.

The second bullet was for me.

"Cam, wake up. Cam? Wake up, Cam." Someone slapped my face. My vision blurred and my feet prickled, my thigh was stiff.

"I'm awake," I gasp. My throat is dry as parchment and I can hardly open my eyes, let alone blink.

"Thank God," someone sighs, "someone get her water!"

A minute later there's water being forcefully dribbled down my throat.

"I'm going to kill her," someone else mutters.

I fall back asleep.

When I wake up again I know three days have passed, and that my mission has, and is about to be, horribly delayed.

And I'm going to fix that. My arm is in a sling and I have some stitches along my body, and lets not forget the gun shot wound, but I'm fine, and anyone with eyes who doesn't want to get killed will agree with me.

I walk down a secluded hallway and away from that prison of nursing bed.

I'm gonna fight back, I'm not going to lose, and I'm going to make sure of that.

My feet wobble and I sit down.

I decide to do all that saving once I get my energy back and slouch against the wall.

Hi guys. I have a confession, I don't think ill be able to finish this book. Actually im sure of it. I stopped writing all together about 8 months ago. realised I didn't have the motivation to finish books and im now into slam poetry I guess. Basically, ive changed. :/

probably the only reason I've updated is because I've had this chapter done and basically sitting on my computer for like 5 months and that review from a guest I've gotten earlier today :) .

Although I wont be finishing this, this story is totally up for adoption. I'm not completely sure what that means lol but I've seen it be done. So if you're interested PM me, I have like 3 conditions of my own, but basically if u wanna finish this book 4 me u gotta tell my how this whole adoption thing works :)

Farewell, May

*(ADOPTED BY PrettyLittleGallagherGirl)