I wrote this series for an assignment for my creative writing course.  These fics are a series of short stories that can be read as stand-alones or as a complete series.  They are not meant to be read in any particular order, so if there's a bit of jumping around in the timeline, that's why!  Please, review these fics, I'd love to know what you guys think!!

Moments

There are moments in your life that shape you, that set the path of who you're going to be.  Sometimes they're small, subtle moments.  Other times, they are moments that wreak havoc upon everyone's lives.

Those massive moments of mine are so easy to remember.  Every detail has wedged itself firmly into my memory, never to escape until the day when I am lying in a satin-lined box, waiting to be transported to the place where I am to spend eternity.

Some days are so easily forgotten.  The day you learn how to walk, to talk, to smile.  These are days when you're young, when there's no real capacity for memory.  And yet, these are the moments that are going to be important in the everyday workings of your life. 

Some days you can remember, even though they often don't change anything.  Your first cigarette, your first kiss, and the first time you accidentally swear in front of your parents.  These are the moments when your heart begins to race and the sweat begins to pour, but does anything really change? 

I remember the moment that changed my life.  We were young and naïve.  Foolish really.  We'd never even considered the potential consequences of our actions.  We never thought we'd be caught.  Little did we know how wrong we were.

We were mates, Will and I, even though our friends harassed us about the extent of our relationship.  Everyone around us thought that we should be dating, just because we were so close.  We were everything to each other.  Did I love him?  Hell yes!  I've never loved anyone more than I loved Will.  We just seemed to go so well together.  Beth and Will.

We did everything together; from riding bikes, to fishing, to our make-believe games of Cowboys and Indians, to Doctors and Nurses.  We were teased mercilessly in primary school, both of us made to feel guilty for not playing with children of our own sex.  We weren't interested in any of them though.  We wanted to play together, so we did. 

Growing up, we were both so innocent.  We'd never had any thoughts of doing anything rebellious, which is perhaps why when the idea came up, it seemed so delicious, so forbidden.  We'd never stepped over the line and the idea of running across that line with no care in the world seemed so dangerous.  Being fifteen and wanting to prove to your best friend that you were just as brave as him was a deadly mixture for disaster, but neither of us even considered that.

Some people would say we got off extremely lightly.  I was hospitalised for a week.  Will was grounded for a year. Worst of all, we were forbidden to see each other. Lightly?  It was the worst punishment our parents could possibly cook up.  And yet, in some ways, it was the best thing that ever happened to us.

So, what did we do?  Well, it involves a gun, a bullet and an extreme amount of dumb luck.  Will's dad hunted for sport, the stupidest sport I'd ever heard of.  As a lover of animals, I couldn't understand why anyone would want to go into the country and shoot at foxes and rabbits.  I didn't dare say anything to Will's dad about it though.  In all honesty, the man scared the hell out of me.  I mean, if he's willing to shoot at innocent animals, what's to stop him from doing the same to me?

When Will said he wanted to see what all the fuss was about, I'd gone along with him.  He didn't dare touch his dad's rifle.  Mr Jamerson, Will's dad, was so proud of that rifle.  He was always boasting about how expensive it was.  Will was forbidden to touch it, and seeing as he was almost as scared of his dad as I was, we obeyed that rule which is probably just as well.  We did take his dad's hand gun though.  A 'piece', Will's dad always called it.  I think Will's dad had it from his army days. 

Will's not stupid. His IQ is up around genius level.  I guess he just wasn't taught the right things about guns.  He unloaded the gun, but managed to forget the single bullet lodged in the chamber.  To be fair, I didn't know about that bullet either, so when he was pointing the gun at me, I wasn't even nervous.  I trusted him implicitly.

He'd fiddled around with the levers on the gun and managed to pull the safety off, and without a warning, he'd let off the shot in my direction.  Everything after that got a little bit fuzzy.  The next thing I remembered was waking up in the hospital.

They say that when your about to die, you're entire life flashes before your eyes.  As someone who's been on the brink of death, I would tell you that whoever first came up with that phrase is a complete liar.  Although, I guess everyone's circumstances are probably different.  I didn't have time to blink let alone consider my unfinished life.  I didn't even get a single moment to consider what I had left undone.

When they let me out of hospital, the first thing I wanted to do was see Will.  I desperately wanted to share this experience with him, let him know that it wasn't his fault.  We were just lucky that he has a horrible aim and somehow managed to shoot my shoulder instead of a vital organ.  My heart for example. 

Knowing my mum, she probably sent poor Will away from the hospital with some rather choice words ringing in his ears.  I just hope he didn't believe them.  He was and forever will be my best friend, regardless of the mistakes he makes.  It's not like I'd never hurt him before.

When we were nine, I 'accidentally' pushed him off the swing, and he broke his arm.  He forgave me for that, so why wouldn't I forgive him for this?  Not to mention the time when we almost managed to drown ourselves in the river that runs at the bottom of his property.  We were both at fault for that, and we'd laughed off the experience as just another of our adventures.

At home, my family hovered, which, if you knew me, you would know makes me incredibly irritable.  I like my space, I love my privacy and I hate people who hover.  Every five minutes, people were asking if I needed anything, if I wanted anything, if I was comfortable.  I was so close to just snapping, yelling at them to leave me alone, to let me lie down in peace, to let me see my best friend.  But I stayed quiet, even though they were bugging the hell out of me.  I needed my best friend.  I wanted to get the hell out of my house.  And of course I wasn't comfortable, I had a bloody hole in my chest! 

It took nearly two weeks to convince my mum of what had really happened the day that I was shot.  Trying to prove that Will hadn't been trying to kill me was tougher than I imagined it would be.  Getting her to let Will see me was a feat that exhausted what little energy I had. 

I hate to sound like a hapless romantic, but seeing Will for the first time since that day nearly two and a half weeks ago almost broke my heart.  He looked tired, defeated.  I hated seeing him like that.  I can only imagine how much he hated to see me lying uncomfortably in my bed, the edge of the bandage that was wrapped across my shoulder sticking out where my shirt finished.

His eyes were drawn to it automatically, and a look of even more guilt flashed across his face.  He was hesitant to sit down on my bed, most probably because I had overheard my dad telling him unequivocally that if he hurt me he would, and I quote; 'beat him to death with a shovel'. 

I smiled and reached out my hand to him, which he took gently.  He managed a small smile when I squeezed his hand, comforting him as much as I possibly could.  I never thought I would see him cry, and the single tear that fell from his eyes nearly broke my resolve not to break down sobbing in front of him.  He exhaled softly and looked at me, his best friend.

"I nearly killed you."

His voice was soft, gentle and a little bit hoarse.  Probably from two weeks straight of crying, knowing him. 

"I'm okay Will."

Another tear fell from his eyes and he looked at me with such obvious affection.  He could always take my breath away.

It was in that moment that I knew I couldn't live without him.  Years later, he would tell me that it was the moment the bullet had hit me and I had crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap that he knew he couldn't live without me. 

Our friends' constant jibes at us for us to be a 'couple' seemed to finally sink in.  And the biggest moment of my life that set the course of who I was going to be had happened then and there.  What I was, was Will's best friend.  What Will was, was my everything.