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He looked to her. He shaped a smile filled with sorrow and then let her know to keep quiet by putting his finger to his lips. She gave a nod. She understood. He put his hands on top of his head, turned around the rest of the way, and sidestepped out.
As soon as he cleared the wall, he pressed the shotgun against his forehead, and the world fell silent.
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He reached back to check it. There was definitely still enough to torch her house. He watched a couple upperclassmen girls walk by with big shiny smiles, and he wondered how-the-hell anyone could be so happy.
And then, off in the distance he saw a hot-pink backpack at the foot of the west entrance stairs. He gnarled his lip as he saw that motherfucker standing right there with her. He was right on time and clueless to the fact he was already dead....
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He got up and went in unbuttoning his shirt. She was sitting up in bed when he came out wearing only his pants and underpants, he was carrying his shirt and shoes. For his sake, she smiled at him and turned out the light, thus allowing him to pull his pants off in the dark. Moments later she felt him slip into bed with her, but he was making certain he stayed far enough over on his side of the queen-sized bed so he would not touch her.
However, for...
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He saw the light go out in the hall and when she didn't come in right away he began to worry she was not coming at all. Finally, there she stood wearing a little white threadbare tee shirt that barely came down to the top of her thighs. She smiled at him and went to the other side of his rustic styled queen-sized bed with four huge posters the size of tree trunks.
All the time she was showering and going through her things trying to find exactly...
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From where he'd parked at the shoulder of the road, he watched car after car pass him by. He reached over and slid his hand into the glove box. He pulled out the gun he'd purchased with prefigured thoughts of killing her, and he looked at it curiously, wondering if it was all meant to be, and he thought, Wouldn't that be rich if I walked into her office and put a bullet through that twisted thing she calls a heart? And then, he could punch his own...
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