It Wasn't My Fault, I SwearMature

It wasn't my fault, I swear. Sure, I didn't like him, and sure, he had been stalking me. But I didn't want the kid to die. I mean a restraining order would've worked fine, but...

Anyway, I was sitting in my room on Tuesday, typing away to Jesse, my boyfriend, when all of a sudden, I heard the door slam downstairs. God knows how I heard it over all that rain and thunder and lightening, but I did. Anyway, I glanced at my clock and saw it was only 7:53. My parents weren't due home for at least another two hours. Then, I heard a sound that I've only heard through other mediums, like my TV screen: the sound of a gun cocking.

My eyes opened wide and I looked around my room in a panic, hoping to find something I could use as a weapon. There was a bat from softball, but, like, against a gun? I was dead, literally. My phone was on the other side of the room and the shooter was already walking up the stairs. I closed my laptop silently and grabbed the phone. I dialed 91-- then my door burst open.

And there stood a short, lanky kid with curly brown hair, wearing a... Pac-Man, I think it was?... Pac-Man shirt. Next thing I know, he's up at my head with the gun. I smelled whiskey on him--not hard to find in these parts for kids, by the way, not that I would know, but I have some friends--and I was, pardon my French, scared shitless. 

Okay. Before I go on, Ben had been sending me creepy texts and emails and Facebook messages, like "Hey sexy, busy Friday?" At first, I would just reply with "Yes, I have a boyfriend." Then, I ignored him completely. He still messaged me. The messages were getting creepier, like, "I saw you outside of English today. You looked so beautiful." I was too scared to tell my mom. Then I messaged him again after he messaged me, saying how hard he wanted to, erm... "fuck" me. I said something along the lines of, "stop messaging me or I call the police." Next thing I know, he's in my room with a gun, whispering about how the police can't do shit now. I pressed the last 1 and hit "call." I screamed and rolled away. Then I heard a huge bang, something else I've only ever heard through the TV. I honestly, truly thought I was going to die. I heard "Hello?" coming from my cell phone. The operator. I screamed again so she could hear me. 

He stuck the gun to my head again, but before he could pull the trigger, I rolled away and knocked into my bookshelf. I watched as he followed me, then I saw the bookcase wobble. In slow motion, I watched the massive piece of furniture topple over onto his head. I screamed again, but he didn't move. Right then, I heard sirens. They're here now? Shit, I thought, now it looks like I killed him. But I swear, it was an accident. I promise.

The End

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