~peanut~
I clench my fist, the jagged edges of the rock cutting into my hand. It was supposed to be my weapon but she told me to leave. I was supposed to protect her but he was too quick. And now she lays broken in a heap at his feet. All I can do is watch through the holes he made in the walls, creating bars that keep me from my sister.
I don’t cry out when he raises the gun. I make no sound as he aims it at her back and she whimpers in terror. She told me to be silent. I flinch when the rock scrapes against the broken bricks; I know he heard it. But he doesn’t move. I can hear the gun click as the barrel falls into place and it is ready to shoot.
I am supposed to strike. To strike when necessary was her only instruction before confronting him. The rock has dug into my palm and I can see the tiny rivulets of blood as they drip down the rough edge. I can hear him whisper to her in a calm voice.
It makes me sick; I can feel the scowl creep on my lips. I drop the rock and wait as it ricochets off of the hard ground. He turns, his sinister eyes groping at the small amount of light to see in the darkness. When he walks toward the holes I walk around, to the door that he has left ajar. He didn’t think about me, Mac’s baby brother being her.
I remember from when there was light in the room that there is a table beside the door. It is where he got his gun when he took her. We were down by the pond where no one could see. Another gun sits beside a book in the back corner of the drawer.
“Boy, I don’t know what you think you are doing,” Trevor says in the darkness. There is sliver of light coming through the door of the little room. It lands on Mackenzie’s face and I watch as he kicks her. She coils up like a snake, holding her side where his boot made contact with her ribs. My eyes move from her to his hand that is posed over her chest with the barrel about a foot from her.
“If you shoot I do,” I say trying to keep my hand from shaking. I have never killed anyone. I never thought I would need to.
“Put the gun down, you don’t even know how to use it. I’m gonna teach your sister a lesson, boy, and you can’t help her.” He says his finger itching to pull the trigger. Mac is crying. I can hear her soft sobs and can see it as she shakes against the ground. She doesn’t deserve this, no matter what she did to this guy.
I slowly raise the gun. I have to hold it with both hands; the shaking is making it wiggle in my grip. And I pull the trigger.
Trevor falls as a noise loud enough to break glass echoes in the small space. He is surprised as the bullet slices through him. His knees hit the ground and he smiles at me.
“I told you not to shoot.” he whispers, the life fading out of him slightly. But the gun is still in his hand. I watch in horror as he pulls the trigger on his gun. Mackenzie’s sobs die with her.
