My heart was racing. This was it. My final moments. No tears came, as I expected. I just thought of all that I had done, everything I had been through. I thought of my parents, something I very rarely ventured into. I didn't like remembering them because it brought on endless nightmares and the trauma I had endured came back.
I remembered the people that Jack Manson had stolen from this earth.
I was a spitting image of my mother. She was a beautiful woman. Always smiling, always laughing. Her hair had natural waves like mine, and her skin was a flawless olive tone. She had piercing brown eyes and the softest features. She was such a sweetheart, my grandpa had always called her an angel on earth, a true blessing. I'd always agreed with him, up until the moment he passed away.
My father was a proud man. He was strong, and well built. He held my mother and myself in the highest aspects; we were his life. He always told us how proud he was of our family. He complimented my mother everyday. I'd come down stairs every morning and see my father telling my mother how rosy her cheeks were, how beautiful her smile was. He was a kind man.
Jack threw me back into the horrible reality I was living in at that moment. He spun me around so I was face to face with him, my back arching over the table. It hurt but I didn't dare mention that. A swift movement over Jack's shoulder caught my attention, my eyes darting to the exact spot where I'd seen a figure dart through the crowd.
A cool draft filled the air, and I was momentarily relieved of Jack's grip. He lessened his hold on my waist and turned to look at the open back door, staring at it in confusion. I stayed still, my heart racing, my head spinning. I looked back where that person had shoved through the crowd and I saw Blake, gesturing for me to do something. I looked back at Jack, his attention was still off of me.
I elbowed the killer in the chest, right in the sternum. He stumbled back, staring at me with hate blazing in his eyes. He lunged at me as I reached around and grabbed a decorative vase. I smashed it over his head and kicked him down. "Blake!" I yelled, "Help!"
I watched as Blake pushed through everyone to my side, his face drenched in sweat. I ran to him, when I heard a familiar click.
Then a gunshot.
A splitting pain shot through my hip. I felt my muscle being ripped apart by the bullet, I felt my bone being chipped. I collapsed, everyone rushing around me.
I reached at my side, screaming bloody murder. I felt blood rushing around me, just a moment before everything went black.
