Layla ran, she ran as quickly as her feet could carry her. She ran away from the burning mansion, what had once been her home, her sanctuary. As she ran, she could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks, sobbing she ran to the park and headed straight for the swings. She had always come here as a child and today she came her to relive her innocent days. Considering what she had done she had no right to do this. Sobbing, she swung slowly to and fro.
Her family was dead. All killed by one person. They were all killed by her. After the years of abuse, rape, and torture, she had enough. She had taken her father’s revolver and shot them all setting the house on fire as she left. Regrettably, she had left her brother and sister to go to heaven. The sadness overwhelmed her, and she was about to pull out the gun and kill herself when she was interrupted.
“Hey babe, want to hang with us?” said a man who was followed by his companions who all seemed to be drunk.
Layla didn’t say anything. She stared blankly out and kept swinging slowly, back and forth.
“HEY, when someone talks to you, you should answer them, don’t be rude,” one of the man’s companions said as he grabbed her arm.
Suddenly, Layla turned her head and looked at them. Glaring, it was obvious she wanted them to let go but they didn’t get the message.
“Ooh, this one’s a pretty one, I’m going to have fun with her tonight,” the man said as he tried to get her off the swing.
As he pulled her off, Layla stuck her hand in her jean pocket and took the gun out. Seemingly merciless, she shot the man in the head without a word.
“Holy shit!! The bitch’s got a gun!” the man’s companions said as they started to run. Too late. Layla was already starting to shoot them. One down, two down, three down, one more left. The last, one who had spoken to her earlier ran toward the fountain and found a rock.
“Bitch if you don’t put the gun down I’ll-I’ll-I’ll kill you,” he said stuttering as he feared for his life.
Layla snickered unfazed by the empty threat. She walked toward the trembling man and placed the gun directly on his forehead. The man was frozen with fear.
“Am I being rude?” she asked sarcastically as she shot him in the head. He fell back with a thud. She looked around and saw the bloody corpses.
Then, she smiled. The smile turned to a chuckle, to a giggle, then to a laugh. Layla, the beautiful girl from the seemingly nice family, had gone mad. She looked into the fountain, red with blood, and saw her face. The familiar brown eyes and brown hair were contaminated with blood. Her family’s and the men’s blood. She was overwhelmed with guilt, relief, and sadness all at the same time. She then took her gun, sat down in the fountain with the water flowing onto the top of her head, and shot herself in the mouth.
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