He holds a gun to my head. My destiny is in his hands.

His rugged breath tickles my neck, and the strong smell of tobacco lingers in the air. His tattooed arm curls around my neck in a tight grip, making it difficult for me to breathe. I shiver in the cold, helplessly looking at the blinking red and blue sirens of the police cars as they arrive.

I was just an innocent bystander, until my raged ex-boyfriend found me, and pointed a GP-35 at my head. He had been abusive, taking my virginity away from me a year ago, when I was only sixteen. He beat me up when he wasn’t happy, he left me alone and slept with other sluts when he was in a good mood.

And I still forgave him. I knew he had slept with many other girls, I couldn’t take his physical abuse. But still, I kept quiet. I loved him. Just a month ago, I couldn’t take it anymore. Not only had he stolen my virginity, he had given me two broken ribs, three broken arms and a broken nose throughout our relationship.

“It’s over. Me and you, we’re over.”

That outraged him. He beat me up, giving me a broken rib and a black eye, telling me never to joke about such a matter ever again. He thought I was joking - he never took me seriously. I filed for a protection order against him. I told the police about his abuse. They never got to arresting him, for he kept running away.

He’d leave threats for me, by scratching the door to my house and spraying paint messages on the walls outside. I was afraid. I didn’t dare to go out on my own anymore. I was no more the fun, outgoing girl I was.

I cooped myself in my room, and always had the curtains drawn close. I lost my appetite, and became underweight. I lost my friends, and I dropped out of school. I became a loner, a passive introvert.

What had made me so foolish to fall for him? Why didn’t I look past his gorgeous exterior, and see the ugly heart he had? I ask myself these questions at night, crying my eyes out.

He pushes the end of the pistol further into my head, warning the officers to back off. My legs feel limp and my vision is blurred as tears fill my eyes. I see an officer discreetly aim at him as he shouts on and on.

BANG!

The arm around my neck slackens, and the gun drops to the ground. He has been shot dead, in the head. I don’t know if I should feel relieved.

Trembling, I use his blood and quickly scribble a message on the ground, before taking the GP-35 in my clammy hands, and pushing the trigger. BANG!

Life has been cruel to me.

These are the last words I see, before I collapse to the ground.

A/N: Hi. This be a one-shot, and it's seriously sad/depressing/emo.
Yeah, it's not my normal thing (I'm more of a Romance person) but hey, there's a first for everything.
Much loves. :3

Oh, by the way, check out my other stories The Perfect Life, The Way Things Are and Getting Past Barriers.
Mucho gracias/merci beaucoup/thanks a lot! :D