I could feel the cold metal of the barrel of his .45 caliber pistol adjacent to my temple. He demanded silence about the murder I had unfortunately just witnessed. I simply nodded my head, my lips set into a thin line. What else was I to do?

My eyes drifted to the poor girl lying on the cold, wet ground. She was pretty and young, around my age it looked like. I wanted to cry. I didn't know her, but she had her whole life ahead of her. Whether she was 17, 18, 19, it didn't matter. The girl could have had plans for college, for a job, for a family…but none of it mattered now. She was dead. And it was all thanks to the man standing next to me.

I hated him. I cursed him to the deep fiery pits of hell with all my heart. How could he? He had no reason for her death, that much I knew. He was just a cold-hearted person, killing for the sake of killing. Exactly like Clyde Barrow of the infamous Bonnie and Clyde duo.

There was no time for crying now, though. With a simple "Remember, I want silence," and a reinforcing push of his gun, he was gone. My eyes quickly glanced to the spot where the girl was…or had been. She was gone, too. I didn't want to think, didn't want to imagine. In a stupor I walked over to my rusty 1950's Chevy and got in. I fumbled with the keys for a moment; my fingers felt numb. As I was driving up the familiar lane to the house where I lived with my dad Charlie, the nightmarish images came back. I quickly suppressed them and ran inside to the safety of my bedroom, but I was stopped by Charlie.

"Bella?"

"Yeah, it's me, Dad." My voice sounded odd, on the verge of hysterical…

"Okay. Well, I ordered a pizza. It's on the table. Your day go good?"

"Yup. It was just another average, boring day." Of course I had never been a good liar. I knew that Charlie knew that I was lying.

"Ah…okay then," I was thankful he didn't press the matter, "Jessica called. She asked if you wanted to hang out next weekend."

"Oh. I'll call her later. I think I'm going to go to bed early, though. I'm really tired. Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, Bella."

I had finally reached the solace of my bedroom. Without changing, I hurried to my bed and curled up under my old quilt. I was still numb, but not numb enough to not remember, to not feel a tiny bit. Fuck, I knew I was going to have nightmares--

"Bella? Beeeeeeellllaaaa?" I realized that there was a big, russet colored hand waving in my face. I looked away from the hand and into the eyes of my best friend, Jacob Black.

My best friend and I were hanging out at the local diner. Ever since that night almost a month ago, my mood had been slightly off, so he was trying to cheer me up.

"Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"The interrupting cow."

"The interrupting cow wh--?"

"Moo."

I laughed and said, "Jake, you're so lame," and in reply he just gave me a big cheesy grin.

We had finished eating and as we stood up to leave, I was once again astounded by Jake's height. I had known this boy since elementary school, and he had grown. His now 6-and-one-quarter-foot frame towered over my 5-foot-4-inch stature. The inequality of it was almost comical.

I noticed a fact that was completely trivial.

"Hey, look, Jake. You're wearing orange and I'm wearing blue. We coordinate!"

"Not only that, but we're wearing complementary colors. See? I learned a thing or two in art class."

"Sure, buddy. Let's go."

As Jake and I climbed into my car, I got to thinking about the murder and the threatening man again. He had ordered me to tell no one of what I saw that night. But where's the justice in that? I couldn't be expected to let something like that just be forgotten about. Why hadn't I heard about a dead body being found, anyway? Maybe the creep disposed of it…ugh. Mental images of rotting corpses being burned. I quickly directed my mind back to whether or not I should tell someone. The frustration of this decision was beginning to drive me over the edge. Well, I guess I went over the edge in that moment, because I pulled the car over, angled myself towards Jake, and said in a rush of words, "Jacob, two weeks ago I witnessed a murder, but the murderer said not to tell anyone so it's been bottled up inside all this time and I finally decided that I should tell someone."

He stared blankly back at me for a moment, seeming obtuse.

It felt like an eternity had passed before he finally said, "I have a plan. I'm going to report this to the police. They will find this killer, and you will testify against him. Then I'm going to get you out of here."

"Why am I going to leave?" I replied.

"For your own good, that's why." Mine and his moods were completely opposite of what they had been not twenty minutes ago. "If he is found guilty, this guy is not going to be happy. He will find a way to get to you, whether it's through an escape from prison or through friends of his. On the other hand, if he is found innocent, he has the ability to go after you himself."

I nodded, the logic of his words slowly sinking in. I could see his point, even if it meant leaving my family. Thoughts of the Witness Protection Agency ran through my head. I guess this was one of those things that people think will never happen to them. Not even in my worst nightmare could I have imagined this happening.

"I understand. But--I--I wish--I just wish that thi--that this had never happened. That girl, Jake! That poor girl. She was so young, Jacob--at least our age."The reality of all that had happened was finally crashing down on me. There was a sick killer out there, and I had let him get away with a murder, right before my own eyes! I couldn't imagine how Her family had felt when they found out that their daughter didn't come home that night…or any night after that. I began to sob uncontrollably.

A/N: So, what'd you think of this chapter? *Hint, hint* I'll work on making them longer. I would actually make this chapter longer, but I'm impatient and I have to go work on my English paper. Please review!