• Bang! Bang!

    I looked down at my chest. Blood poured down from the hole deep in the center.

    Drip... Drip... Drip...

    I remember thinking, what the hell? I look around for my attacker, at the same time, I'm wondering where I am and how I got here. My vision is blurry and all I can see is mixed colors, reminding me of a photo taken in a moving car.

    That’s when it all comes back to me. The gangs fight over territory, the gun shots, my gun... Thinking back now, I only pulled the trigger once. Then who- ?

    Then mixtures of colors moved into my blurred vision. "Damn it," the figure cursed, "Shell, what happen?"

    "I... 'm n-n-not sure..." I stuttered, "b-b...ut I'm-m f...in...e, Jess." But I know I'm not.

    "No, your not. Your bleeding to death... s**t."

    I smile at the dark blur. Finally, my knees give out and I hit the ground with a thud. It was only a matter of time before I leave this world.

    Suddenly, my mind drifts off. To a time I was once living happily. Times before I was forced to open my eyes to the world outside my own imaginary world.

    I was seven again, getting my first rose. A beautiful white rose from my dad. I remember the sparkle in his eyes when I jumped for joy.

    "Daddy," I whispered, my eyes dazed staring into nothing, my mind going back to innocent times. Daddy. Are you happy? Are you still smiling? Will you go out and buy me a new rose? ... Are you proud of me? Of what I have done?

    (Else where)

    A man in his mid-30's sat at the computer desk, typing up his report, when the phone to his right rang. At first the brown haired man ignored it.

    Ring... Ring... R... aadd... Ring... d...a...d... Ring...

    What the hell? Did his phone just... talk? He turned and stared at the black office phone in front of him.

    Ring... da... d Ring...

    "Jill!" He screamed, "Is your phone ringing?"

    "No, Sir," She yelled through the oak door, "Why?"

    "No, reason. Thank you, Jill."

    Ring... d...y... Ring...

    Suddenly, he didn't see a phone, instead he saw his younger daughter before she ran away.

    "Daddy, Look a butterfly," she giggled. "Daddy, what's wrong? Aren't you happy anymore?"

    "No," He whispered to the little girl, "No, not with out you..."

    "Don't worry, daddy! Mommy will be okay."

    Then just like that she was gone, and back was the ringing phone. Only no it was louder, as if begging him to pick up.

    Ring... Dad... dy... Ring... DADDY!

    And his hand slammed on the phone. Against his will, the receiver was raised to his ear.

    The man hesitated. "H-hello, John speaking."

    "Daddy," the childish voice whispered back.


    "Daddy. Are you happy?"

    "No, Shelly, I'm not," He felt like crying. For the first time in years, John was hearing his daughter’s voice, and it was exactly the same as it was when she left.

    "Are you still smiling?"

    "No." But he knew she couldn't hear him.

    "Will you go out and buy me a new rose?"

    In his mind John saw a blond child with bright green eyes holding a white rose to her nose with a joyful smile. "Sure, honey. Anything to see your smile."

    "... Are you proud of me?" Suddenly the voice was mature, not so high pitched, but it held more sadness then it should have, "Of what I have become? What I have done?"

    John paused. How could he answer that one? He doesn’t know what she had become. Looking around the room his eyes landed on a picture that wasn't on his desk before. His eyes connected with deep green eyes and stared.

    His Shelly looked older. Her hair was short now and black as night. Her clothes where too big, and her forearm was wrapped in bandages, as was her head, but she was laughing in the picture. Next to her was a slightly taller boy with red hair and bight green eyes narrowed into a glare at the blond men hanging off Shell's shoulder laughing happily. On the ground was a brown haired man with a brown and a white puppy sitting in his lap.

    John's eyes traveled to the words written at the bottom in gold fancy writing. 'After the first war of gangs'