Hold it, hold it...nope, you've lost it. Lost it big time

When something like that happens, when you're nearly get killed, what's your automatic reaction? Some cry, some scream, but for me...I run. Like I'll never come back.

Corby stood up quickly, tears in her eyes. She stared at Nathan, who was completely lost yet still held the gun in his hand. Corby stormed over to him and lifted her hand up to hit him, but another ice cold hand held her wrist back firmly.

"Don't," Misha's voice whispered into Corby's small ear. She froze in fear, with what she was doing and what was happening, then gently slid her hand out of Misha's grip. She stood there for a moment, the entire room in silence, staring at the incident. 

"See this is why I don't trust men with guns. It's also why I didn't trust you in the first place," Corby whispered to Nathan, the thick tears making her eyes go blurry. She then turned to Misha, "I'm leaving...now." She said firmly, running out and slamming the door, leaving shock and silence floating behind her.

She ran through the corridor and around the corner then suddenly stopped to see a boy with his back to her, he was about her age, with thick hair and a lanky body.

"Simmons'?!" He yelled through the peephole, then turned and stared at Corby. At that precise moment, that moment where the house was going to let her run, she didn't want to. Because a beautiful boy stood before her, telling her to stay.

The End

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