A/N Hello my lovely reviewers, I apologize for the slight lateness in updating. I am currently on vacation in Florida which is delaying things somewhat.

Thanks to all Reviewers!

Dedication: to usaprincess242 for her review. :)

Disclaimer: I only own the plot and the evil people.

I was seventeen when it happened, Jason was nineteen. We were in love; Sonny thought he was too old and too dangerous for me. I didn't care, and neither did Jason. Despite this we kept our relationship secret from him, we didn't want to cause trouble, so we pretended to be content as merely friends. The agony I felt as I watched Garrison point his gun at those fifteen people...at Jason, was not what one felt for a friend. It was the kind of agony that Juliet must have felt when she woke up and found Romeo dead, it was the heart-wrenching grief that could induce one to wish for death.

I've never believed in 'to death do us part,' if you really love someone, really truly love them, would you allow death to be the end? I will never love anyone like Jason, and some trivial thing like death could never part us, never.

-Flashback-

"We're going to play a little game, a game of chance as it were," Garrison collected a notebook and pen, as well as a hat, which he took off the head of one of the people he had murdered earlier that evening. He began to write different body parts down on the slips of paper, as well as one slip which bore the word 'free.'

He wrote down the following phrases: left arm, right arm, left leg, right leg, chest, right temple, left temple, forehead, back of head, right foot, left foot, throat, back, stomach, and finally free. He folded up the slips of paper and put them in the hat, mixing them up, he then directed me to walk the length of the line and offer a slip of paper to each person. Jason was the eight person in line.

"I love you, Court, no matter what happens, know that." He whispered to me when I held the hat out to him.

"I love you, too." I whispered back, meeting his eyes and taking note of the agonized expression in them which I knew was mirrored in my own expression. I moved on to the next person to offer the slip of paper after that, and the next and the next, and the next. I felt like the Grim Reaper sowing death wherever I passed.

"Now, will you please open up your piece of paper?" He inquired of the first person in line. "Then hand it to the charming Miss Corinthos to read."

The person, a girl of maybe twenty-two or so who I didn't recognize, did as commanded, and a small sob tore from her throat as she handed the paper to me. I glanced down at it, although it took me a few seconds to read as my hands were shaking. "Back, it says back." I whispered.

"Pity, I would have liked to see your face as I killed you, but a game is a game after all, turn around, please." Garrison requested politely.

She was shaking too badly to obey. Garrison gestured to one of the armed gunmen who sauntered over and forcibly turning her around and holding her in position by her arm as Garrison took aim. It was over in less than a minute, the girl crumpled to the floor, blood flowing out to form a puddle on the floor. I felt vaguely nauseous as I watched. I wanted no part in Garrison's games. Garrison, himself, simply turned to the next person in line, a male, maybe thirty or so, and directed him to hand the paper over to me.

I accepted it, and read off his face my voice shaking as I did so. "Right foot." He was lucky, I was glad for him, but at the same time I knew that every better option pulled from the hat meant an increased likelihood that Jason would be facing a fatal shot. Garrison yawned and had shot the man in the foot, before I even had time to register what was going on. He fell to the ground in pain, his screams echoing through the gym.

"Shut up, or I'll give you a real injury." Garrison commanded. The man went silent. "Next."

I took that as an order to gather the third sheet of paper from a teenage boy, a freshmen, I knew him by sight if not by name. "Right leg." He was a soccer player, the injury would probably put him out of commission for the entire season, if not longer, but it was better than being dead.

After finishing with the freshmen boy, Garrison gestured to the forth person in line. A sixty year old woman, she reminded me of the Grandma I had adopted through my school's Adopt a Grandparent program and I couldn't stop the sob that tore from my throat as I took the paper from her.

"It's okay, dearie, the Lord will take care of us all in the end." She said reassuringly to me. I wanted to cry, instead I read off, "forehead." Before I could so much as blink, the elderly woman was dead, starring up at the ceiling with wide unseeing eyes. The fifth person, a woman, got left foot, and the sixth, a teenage girl who I didn't know, got right temple. The seventh got left leg.

Jason was next. When he handed me the paper he squeezed my hand briefly in comfort, I felt a tear slide down my face. "Goodbye, Courtney." He said, as if he knew what was coming. He probably did.

"Stomach." I read. And, then I threw myself in front of him. "Please, don't kill him, don't, please." I begged. Garrison seemed amused by pleas and gestured to the guard who had held the first woman in place. He strode over to me, and seized me by the waist pulling me backwards away from Jason. I fought tooth and nail to get away, to get to Jason, but it was too late. Garrison leveled his gun and suddenly Jason was on the ground, a puddle of blood slowly forming underneath him. "Bastard." I screamed. "You piece of crap, you sick, disgusting son of a bitch, how dare you?" And before anyone could stop me, I had elbowed the other gunman in the chest and strode over to Garrison and slapped him across the face. His head slammed to the side with an audible crack, but he was still able to grab my wrist and squeeze tightly.

"That is not acceptable, Miss Corinthos."

I spat in his face. He backhanded me with his freehand with enough force that I could taste the blood in my mouth. "It seems that you need to be taught a lesson, and you will be just as soon as I finish up with these remaining seven people." He stated. He then dragged me over to the gunman I had elbowed, the man took charge of me and forcibly dragged me over to the bleachers, handcuffing me to the metal bars on the sides to prevent people from falling off.

Garrison had retrieved Elizabeth who was pale and shaking from where the cheerleaders had been seated in the corner of the gym. She was directed to continue the task he had set me. I didn't take note of what happened to those remaining seven people, I was too busy starring down at the possibly dead body of the man that I loved, and wishing that I could join him.

-End Flashback-

I can honestly say that before that day I never truly understood hatred. Never comprehended what it is like to truly loathe someone, to wish them dead, wish them tortured in the worst way possible.

But I hated Garrison. Hated him. Abhorred him. Wished that I had a gun in my hands so that I could kill him myself. But a gun was too good for him, he deserved to suffer, really and truly suffer. Suffer for what he had done. I wish I had hit him again.

A/N Review, please. Yes, I am indeed quite evil for what I did to Jason.