"Ah Shit"...

Those were his last words before the gunman busted in through the window and shot him in the head. He didn't just shoot him in the head though, he really shot him. "He shot the fuck out of that motherfucker!" people would say.
He fired and fired and fired into your chest and head and neck.


If i could have told the future and was standing in the room, i would have told you to put on a different shirt because the one you were wearing was about to get dirty.

"don't wear a white shirt" i would say, "your going to get brains on your shirt"

And you wouldn't listen, because you're a degenerate and a fool.

But the gunman, he would listen.
He would wait until the last word came out of my lip-sticked mouth.
-"shirt"
and then the gun would fire and fire and fire into your chest and head and neck.

And me and the gunman would leave to go have dinner. And the gunman would tell me how pretty i looked, and how poetic my writing was, and we would fuck in front of the fire.

The End.

But really, all that happened was a friend turned on a friend and fucking shot him in the foot and then riddled his body with red lead, and I was there to catch it on home video.

"Say cheese," i would say, "Your on candid camer-" and the gunshots would cut off my sentence.

The End. (really)


List of characters by un-alphebetical order:

"I" am Cece-(L)
"You" is me.
And "the gunman" is 'the reader'