I heard the bullet, but I didn't feel it.

The sheriff did.

He groaned, pushing me down to the floor with his remaining strength and he fell with me.

"No!" I screamed. "No, no, no!"

Not again! This can't be happening. He took the bullet. He took the damn bullet! Where did he even come from?!

I leaned over his body, pressing down on his wound. I heard the gun cock again.

"No," I sobbed, angrily, applying more pressure. "You... you killed him! You were supposed to kill me!" I watched his life slowly draining away in his eyes.

"I'll be sure not to make that mistake again," she hissed, pressing the gun against my temple.

The anger inside me that was bubbling up seemed to be losing control. A red haze clouded my vision.

Your actions have consequences, you dumb bi--

I hit the gun out of her hand before she could shoot me in the brain. It clattered to the floor a distance away. She went to lunge for it. I grabbed her by her mask and yanked her to the floor. She pulled out a knife.

"Let's go, little girl," she snapped. "You want to fight? We can fight." This is unfair... I have no weapon.

There was a lamp right next to me. I yanked it out of the socket in the wall taking it off the table. She made a noise in the back of her throat.

"What are you going to do? Light me up?" she snickered. I stared at her for a moment and then slammed the lamp on the table. It shattered, presenting many sharp edges for me to use. Her demeanor changed. She now seemed calculating. It was a scary moment, but I didn't let that cloud my judgment. I just watched her hands and the movement of her legs.

"I could cut you open right now," she hissed.

"Then do it," I growled in reply.

"With pleasure. Come this way."

"Not a chance. You come to me."

"Not a chance."

"Seems like we're in a bit of standstill then."

"Seems like it." We both paused for a second. 

"Why don't you just go?" I finally asked.

"It's too late for--" She was suddenly yanked down to the ground by Mr. Russell, who I hadn't even noticed approached. I was too busy staring at her hands.

"Get off of me," she growled. Mr. Russell grunted and moved away. I saw blood flowing out of the palm of his hands.

She cut him...

She lunged for me, tripping to stand up, which I was prepared for. I swiped her in the face causing her to howl. She stumbled back and then turned to see him.

"I'll tell them all--" Before she could finish wherever she was going with that sentence, there was gunfire. She stumbled back and then fell to the floor.

"You didn't..." she said, her voice cracking. She sounded hurt. Not just physically, but also emotionally. He cocked the gun again.

"You're not hurting my student," Mr. Russell said, quietly. He aimed at her head.

"No, don't--!" she begged, only to be interrupted by the fire of the gun.

I stood there, numb. She begged but it didn't help. Now she has a bullet in her head.

Mr. Russell stood there and then looked at the gun in his hand like it was a monster waiting to devour him.

"O-oh my god," he stuttered. "I-I killed her." He stumbled back and then fell to the floor, looking at her body.

I couldn't say anything. The police officers finally made their appearance, along with Caleb and my grandparents.

"Doe, are you okay?" he said, scared. He grabbed my face and examined my body while I muttered over and over, "I'm fine."

"That woman locked us all into rooms. There was a canister of gasoline propped up outside of ours. She was trying to kill us," my grandpa said. "All of us." I nodded slowly and said nothing. I should've asked how they got out, why and if they were all in the same room, but I really couldn't muster up the strength to care. 

"Doe? Doe, talk to me," Caleb said.

I don't want to talk. I want to die.

"Doe?" He grabbed me and pulled me into a hug, gingerly.

"Oh gosh... Mr. Carroll is dead," a police officer said. I looked to see the Sheriff on the floor. He saved me when he didn't have to. I could've been laying there while he could've gone back home to his wife.

His wife... she'll have to feel the same pain I felt when losing my parents.

I pushed away from Caleb and ran past him, out of the room to the hallway. Then I exploded.

My tears streamed down my face and the sobs that escaped me shook my whole body. I couldn't breathe.

My grandpa's arms wrapped around me as his gray-blue colors surrounded me.

Go away. I don't want your colors here.

"Doe, it's okay--"

"It should've been me!" I sobbed, and for the first time I didn't feel bitter or angry; I felt lost. "I should've been dead. Everyone is losing their life over me. My life is not worth any more than there's was!"

"Doe--"

"Grandpa, I don't want to hear what you have to say!"

"You need to," my grandpa said, making me face him. "You need to understand that you can't blame yourself for these things. The action of psychopaths doesn't make you a horrible person. They're the horrible people. And now there's one less of them around."

"And one less innocent person."

"Don't dwell on the good people lost. They lost their life for a good person."

"But they weren't willing to lose their life for me!"

"How do you know?!"

"Because they didn't ask to be bait who got disposed of when they were deemed useless!"

"Doe, you have to understand that--"

"Understand?! All I want to do is understand! For example, why me?! Why is this happening?!"

"Doe, if you wallow in self-pity--"

"Self-pity?" I spat. "There's no self-pity here. Self-pity is a child's game. I'm no longer a child. That's been snatched away from me!"

I stumbled up from the ground and walked away from him.

***

My head ached from how much I cried. I laid down in the bed I had been sleeping in at the police station. I covered my face with my arm, hoping that if I blocked out some of the light the pain would leave. However, it didn't do much.

I felt the weight shift in my bed. I slightly moved my arm to see Caleb getting under the covers with me. He looked up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. He seemed to be deep in thought.

I moved my head up from my pillow and onto his chest, resting my cheek there. He looked down at me. I gave my weak attempt of a smile and then closed my eyes. His hand caressed my face.

"Doe." Surprised he didn't say Feisty.

"Yes, Caleb?"

"I... I think I... no, I know that I l--"

"Hey guys," Max said, knocking. "Can I join?"

Damn it, Max.

"Why would we stop you?" Caleb asked. Max shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. Then he grew serious.

"How do you feel, Doe?"

"I don't want to get into that right now... I just want... to not think about all of this."

"I understand," he said, giving a sad smile. I buried my head in Caleb's chest and slowly drifted off to sleep as they talked beside me.

***

"Clark... I'm telling you we can't be together. I'm in love with and married to Bruce," my mom said, walking back and forth restlessly in the living room. It made it hard to watch tv when she was pacing in a corner with a heavy tension in her voice.

"No... no, I will not!" she shouted. Her voice raising made me nervous.

"No," she whispered, sounding scared. She looked to the window and ran to it. "Leave him alone!" She threw open the door and ran down the driveway to my father, who just pulled in from work. I peered up to look through the window. She was saying things I didn't really pay attention to and was standing in front of him making him duck low. I then looked at the man standing a few feet away in the tree line across the street. My mom stopped walking towards the house and passed. Then she looked to me.

"Doe!" she screamed, but it was too late. The window shattered as a bullet lodged itself in my brain. There was an excruciating pain spreading from my head to my whole body. For a moment everything went dark.

Just as suddenly as the darkness came did the light reappear. I was in a hospital. I had forgetten everything that happened that day. It was like the removal of the bullet removed the memory forever.

But now the memory is back. And I'm reliving it. 

My mom held my hand tightly.

"He's in jail now. He'll be in jail for a while," my dad said, soothingly to her. My mom squeezed my hand harder.

"I left my own daughter unprotected," she cried. "I'm a horrible mom."

"You're not. You couldn't predict that he'd be that horrible of a person."

"But I knew he was crazy enough," she said.

"Mommy," I grunted and sat up. My head was in jarring pain.

"Why are we here?" I asked.

"You don't remember what happened?" she asked.

"No," I said. They looked at each other and then looked back at me.

"You had a seizure," my mom said. "You're okay, though."

I was young enough to accept that.

***

I woke up, grasping my head. The pain was still there.

"Caleb, give me your phone," I commanded. Caleb, groggy, handed me the phone while trying to say things that made no sense.

I unlocked it and searched up "Clark shoots little girl in the head". Many shirts results came up including articles that had absolutely no resemblance to my search. I was ready to give up and accept that my dream was exactly that--a dream--but I finally found something in an old archive website.

"Clark Johnston shoots a seven-year-old girl in the head this Wednesday, July 18th, 2007."

I froze. I didn't know whether to be happy at what I found or terrified. I saved the website as a bookmark on Caleb's phone while also sending it to myself.

I scrolled through more of the article. It talked about my mom and dad and how I was in critical condition in the hospital.

My leg got the jitters started bouncing up and down. Everything I read sent memories of the incident and the moments after flooding back into my mind, just as vividly as the dream was.

"Clark tried to kill me," I whispered, finally seeing that it was real. The proof was right there on the phone screen.

"Hmm?" Caleb mumbled, stirring beside me. He pulled me down next to him to him.

"Feisty? What's wrong?"

I shivered.

He tried to kill me once. Who's to say he won't try again?

I thought I was invincible; that I could protect others because he wouldn't hurt me. But maybe that was an illusion. Maybe he really was trying to just kill me in the most sadistic way possible; to finish what he started.

"Doe?" Caleb asked, waking up more. "What's wrong?"

"He tried to kill me," I whispered.

"Clark?!" Caleb asked, immediately jumping up from his laying position to a sitting one, examining my body to see if I was hurt. "Are you okay?"

"When I was seven he tried to kill me. He shot a bullet into my brain." 

Caleb went silent, clearly shocked. I looked at him and then the floor. 

"I've always been concerned for the lives of everyone else around me but... for once... I'm afraid of him. I'm afraid of what he'll do to me if he gets me." 

"But, Doe, why because of this?" 

"He put a freakin' bullet in my head! It hurt! I felt it! I don't ever want to feel that again!" 

"So it took a dream of a memory to finally smack some sense into you?" Caleb asked, looking relieved. 

"I mean... I guess," I said, sheepishly. 

"Good," he sighed and then wrapped his arms around me. "I won't let him hurt you, Doe. I won't." 

You shouldn't make promises you can't keep.

We both laid down again for a while. I was trying to fall back asleep without memories of Clark haunting my mind. 

Clark, inadvertently, didn't want that. There was a knock on my door and then several officers walked into the room. 

"Doe, we hate to do this to you, but I think you need to answer this phone call." 

----

A/N: Hey guys, I know I'm super horrible! I haven't updated in so long. I did, however, put a chapter teaser up so if you didn't download my chapter teaser book into your library, that's your own fault! ;) 

I'm going to be honest: I had extreme writers block again. I know where I want this story to go, but how to get there in an interesting way is what I'm struggling on. I want you guys to enjoy this story as much as I do, so I want to give it my all every chapter. That's why uf

Stay awesome guys. I'll make it my goal to get a chapter up by next Wednesday or Friday. If you want a chapter teaser this friday, comment that and I'll try to make it happen. 

Until then,

-Lien :)