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It wasn’t easy but I’d managed to sneak out my window and grab one of Clint’s handguns from next door. I stared at it, letting it shift from one hand to the other before placing it against my temple.
Various images flashed through my mind like a movie. All of my ups, my downs, my family. My parents had dropped me off at my grandmother’s at the age of 13. Said they couldn’t handle me anymore.
Gran, being the angel she is, took me in with open arms. She didn’t deserve this. I only prayed that one day she’d forgive me. My eyes slid closed. A small smile stretching across my lips. That’s when I heard her voice.
"Emmy? Emmy…Clint says one of his guns has gone missing. You wouldn’t happen to know where it went, would you?"
I didn’t recognize my own voice. “Yeah. I know where it is.” My voice was hallow. The lump in my throat threatened to suffocate me before I could tell her my goodbyes.
Her gasp soon after hurt my heart. She began to bang on the door.
"Emmett Sean Rockwell, if you don’t open this door right now I’ll never forgive you. So help me God."
My voice was even quieter than before. The tears now falling freely down my face. “I can’t.”