Thoughtshot

Blood covered every inch of the living room, once spotless with pristine white fabrics. Now they glowed crimson agony. The gun felt sticky with sweat beneath my fingers, and I let it drop to the floor. I couldn't breathe. How could it have ended this way? I couldn't believe the sight that was layed out before my eyes, or that I had caused it. I was terror stricken as I watched the last bits of life flicker from her eyes. Why did it have to be her? I wanted to rip the intruder apart as he ran out the door, laughing like a hyena. He tripped over her body out the door and i needed to scream. My best friend lay dying on the floor because of my poor aim, and never agin would she get back up. I couldn't handle this. We had been through so much together, and never again would we talk to eachother. I cursed my bad aim, and sank to the floor in a heap of tears. I was too devastated to chase the intruder. Rust reached my nose, the salty, bitter smell of her blood. The smell was overwhelming, blanketing the room in a thick fog of a sickly sweet stench. Her body lay limp against the floor, a sight my eyes couldn't bear, but also couldn't look away from. She was really gone. She was gone, and it was all my fault. Guilt bubbled up in my intestines, taking over my entire body.