“I remember it like it was yesterday. It was five years ago, maybe not to the exact day, but it was the first Breakdown of 2011 and there I was, preparing to face none other than David Helms for the SCW Adrenaline Championship. I can admit it. I was nervous. I had goosebumps. I was battling anxiety like a motherfucker, but when the bell rang, I knew it was time to put up or shut up. I went out there and I went toe to toe with the man who would go on to be known as the Best of the Best in Supreme Championship Wrestling. I matched him move for move, hold for hold, punch for punch. I fought as hard as I could, because I knew that there was a lot at stake. I was competing for my very first championship in the SCW, my very first championship in my wrestling career period…and I knew that if I lost, I would have to claw my way up. I knew that if I lost and had to start over then there would be no telling how long it would take me to return to the same position.”

“That is my mentality going into this tournament, on the first Breakdown of 2016. I will find myself staring across the ring from Stacy Kissinger and if I make it past her, it will be either Alexis Quinne or Amy Chastaine. There is anxiety. There is this nervousness. I got the goosebumps. I have no doubt in my mind that should I become the number one contender at the end of the show, those emotions, those goosebumps will return once I find myself standing in the center of the ring waiting for the bell to sound so I can compete against the World Champion, for the one title I have always wanted to hold, the one title being the reason I wanted to get into this business. Sure, there is the money and the fame, but being known as the World’s Champion has so much more to it than anything else, at least in my mind. I got voted into this position thanks to the few fans and supporters that I have, as I have been deemed quite the asshole by a lot of news outlets, fans, and critics. I feel that I belong in this match, this tournament because I have fucking earned it. I have put my body and my mind through Hell to get to this point, to even be considered as a top contender to the World Championship, an honor that has never been bestowed upon me.”

“I know that I have left and come back. People can state that my inconsistency to stay with the company has been the reason for the lack of opportunity within SCW. But when you really look at it, I have never been one of the golden boys. I am not David Helms, Tommy Valentine, or even Jake Starr. I thank God or whoever for that to be quite honest. Those three were the big dogs when I arrived to the SCW, but I never aspired to be like them. Shilo Valiant then emerged and became one of the big names. I proved that I was able to hang with those names and even beat them, yet it is always crowded at the top. Once I lost, I was pushed back down and no matter how hard I tried, there was always someone or something holding me back. I’d ask management what I needed to do. I’d follow that advice because getting to the top and staying there wasn’t as easy as it seemed for the names I previously mentioned. Yet that advice never led me to anything but disappointment, because once I fixed this, there was something else I needed to work on and it was a never ending cycle. I asked for the ball but was never thrown my way. I had to sit back and watch as it was just handed to others, so you can imagine the frustration. But I find myself reaching out, my fingertips touching the proverbial glass ceiling. I look at them all, standing up there, smirking and laughing amongst themselves, before looking down at me, as I slowly extend my middle finger, letting the Streets, the Helms, the Valentines, the Taylors and Sperlings know exactly how I feel when it pertains to them.”

“I then look away from them and I see three other faces crowding around me, all trying to push by me, so they can look up and catch a glimpse of a possible future, standing with the so called “stars” the so called “very best” but I stand above them, letting them know that I am not going to shoved around, that I am not going to be pushed aside and passed over as I have been over and over again throughout my entire career. I have been the bridge from the mid card to the main event off and on since I signed the dotted line, but that is no more. This week, I am going to walk across that bridge…oh hell no, I am going to run across that bridge, putting all of my weight behind into my shoulders as I charge and bust through that glass ceiling. I will look at those main eventers and let them know that I should have been here a long time before now, that I have always belonged…here…”

“I know I will have to fight harder than I have ever done before. I will have to face two out of three opponents in order to become number one contender. I am not here to show respect or state that I want to have a good match and may the best man or woman win. No, scratch that. I am coming here to win. I am coming to become the number one contender. I am coming for it all.”


December 26th, 2015

I look at him as he hangs there, handcuffed, dangling from a chain in the center of this abandoned warehouse that has some sentimental value to not only me, but my father. I am standing in the empty office, alone except with the ghost of my father sitting behind me in the same chair my actual father sat long ago. I am standing near the window as I used to do when I was younger, as my father did his best to show me the “family” business and how things operated.

Charles Evans: “Well there he is, the man who took everything from me…from you…you have him right where you want him, yet here you are…What are you waiting for James?”

I keep my eyes locked in on Sanders as I respond.

James Evans: “I was just reminiscing that’s all. I remember coming here when I was a kid, with you, while you sat at your desk, talking to everyone who worked for you, barking orders, telling them what to do and how to do it. You would always say that there is only way to do things in this business and that is the right way. I guess being here just brought all of that back.”

The ghost laughs and it sounds so real as it echoes in my ear.

Charles Evans: “How could I forget? Those were some of the best times in my life. You could have that as well. But all you have to do is go down there and put a bullet in that little shit’s head. It will be over before you know it.”

James Evans: “I know. It is as simple as that. I have my gun. I have it full of bullets just in case I get a little trigger happy. I have waited for so long to do this, to end it all, but I know that by killing Sanders that it will only be the beginning of something else, another war I want no part of, another battle of yours that I have to fight. I’m not sure I’m up to it.”

Charles Evans: “There will always be battles, James. That is something that you can’t forget. You will always have a fight to fight, be it out here, or even in the wrestling ring. I know that you know that. But this isn’t about that. This is about reclaiming what Sanders stole from us.”

I can’t help but shake my head this time, before slowly turning and facing the ghost of my father.

James Evans: “I’ve heard you say that for a long time. It has repeated over and over in my head, but hearing you say it now…it’s different. I’m not sure how but it is. I don’t know why that is, but it’s not something that I think I can ignore.”

Charles Evans: “What do you mean?”

I shrug my shoulders before giving my response.

James Evans: “I believe that Sanders didn’t steal anything from me. I’ve heard you say it so many times that I actually started to believe that he stole from us, but I guess realization just hit me and I see…now…that Sanders stole from you. But the way I see it…when I really think about it…you stole from others, from the Evans family, taking it as your own. In a way, I would have to say that it was karma.”

Charles Evans: “So…fucking what? Are you not going to kill him and reclaim your birthright? I bred you to take over this empire. Not too long ago you were all about it, but now…all of a sudden, you’ve had a change of heart. Is that it?”

James Evans: “Yeah I guess so. You could call it a moment of clarity for me. I am cold, Dad. I truly am. I have been cold to those I have called my family. But I can also be cold to you. If you were truly alive, I would treat you the same way by telling you the same exact thing. I don’t need this…any of it,” I say, expanding my arms out and turning in a slow circle as if I am showing off the entire warehouse, symbolizing the empire my father built for me, “But most importantly, I am saying this to you, but for myself as well just so that it sinks in…I don’t want this. Any of it…”

I watch as the ghost’s hands come together, clap, clap, clapping as a smirk appears across his face.

Charles Evans: “Well, look at you. Really putting it out there, driving it home. You don’t want anything that I built for you, anything that I have left you. You are nothing more than an ungrateful son of a bitch.”

I smirk, knowing that he is right. I am ungrateful. I have never been grateful for anything I have ever received in this life, be it inside of the ring, or out in the streets of the outside world. I am cold, colder than the snow slowly falling, piercing the ground outside of this warehouse. I am as cold as ice, which is what I tell myself as a smirk returns to my face as I shrug my shoulders once more.

James Evans: “You’re right. I am, but I learned that from you. I am who I am because of you. I have taken everything I’ve learned from you and I have molded myself into the asshole that I am. I used to beat myself up over it, but as I have gotten older, hell I’ll be thirty in a few months, I’ve realized that this is me. It’s who I am. It’s in my nature, so I can thank you for that, but I am not going to thank you for a fucking drug empire. I can make my own choices and after going through all of this bullshit with you, Sanders, Briggs and whoever else is involved, I have to realize that I am fucking tired of it all. I want my own life, not yours.”

Charles Evans: “Well I am glad that you’ll take something that I’ve given you. You want your own life? I can appreciate that. But you need to also realize that you are still going to have to deal with this bullshit because you’re my son. Sanders isn’t the only one out there. People will come for you, James. You won’t have back up or anyone else to help you. You’ll be alone.”

I turn away and once again stare down at Sanders, still dangling like an ornament on a Christmas tree, before I reply.

James Evans: “I’ve always been alone…”


December 25th, 2015…Christmas

“Are you sure you want to do this? I am not trying to be a pain, but you’ve flip flopped back and forth on this matter for the last few months. I just want to be sure. I am perfectly content either way.”

Daniel’s voice rings in my ears as I press the phone against my skull. I am trying not to lose it because I know I have been indecisive about how I want things to go, but after taking a good hard look at myself in the mirror this morning, I have realized what the best course of action is. He has every right to be aggravated, but in the end, this is about me. Daniel has stuck by my side through it all, but he knows that the end goal has always been the same no matter how many times I’ve changed my mind. I let out a sigh before responding.

James Evans: “Yes, Daniel I’m sure. I think this will be the best thing for everyone, not just including me, but you and everyone else. I have allowed a lot of emotions and feelings get in the way, but I am trying to put all of that behind me, out of my line of vision so I can focus on the bigger picture and what I want for myself.”

Daniel Smith: “And what is the bigger picture? What do you want for yourself?”

James Evans: “To be it in the simplest terms that I can…I’d like some semblance of a normal fucking life, away from drugs except for the occasional joint or something…but no crime, no empire, none of that shit. I know it won’t be completely normal because I’m on fucking TV every week. I’m a celebrity, but I’d rather have a normal celeb life instead of a life where I have to look over my back in fear of someone trying to run up and stab me in the back before letting me bleed out all over the fucking sidewalk.”

There is a slight pause on the other end of the phone. Even I can’t believe I said it, but I am telling myself that I need to be firm in my decisions and stick with the choices I make. Ending this tonight is the goal and then walking away is the goal that follows.

Daniel Smith: “I understand where you’re coming from. I’m your friend and associate, but I’ve never experienced anywhere close to what you have so I’d be lying if I said I knew what it was like. If that is the way you’ve felt or have been feeling then I would have to agree that it’d be best to get out while you can.”

James Evans: “Thank you, Daniel…for everything. I know I don’t say it much, if at all, but thank you. This has been beyond important for me. I wouldn’t ask you to help me with anything like this, but you’re one of the few people that I know I can trust. If all goes well, and we both make it out alive, you will be handsomely rewarded just as I promised. I haven’t forgotten that.”

Daniel Smith: “You’re one of the few friends I have left, James. This is going to go well and it will all be over before you know it. Once it’s done, we can both lead normal, semi-happy lives. I will continue to run the company. If you want to join in, you know where it’s at.”

I go to say something in response, but I hear a car pull up followed by a car door open and shut.

James Evans: “I appreciate that Daniel. I do, but he’s here. We can talk about that later,” I hear Sanders’ voice not too far from my home. He is laughing and cracking jokes, but then I hear the sound of footsteps, “Make sure everything is ready. Later…” I hang up my phone just as I hear a knocking at my door. I get up and walk over to the door, opening it. As soon as I open it, Sanders steps inside, looking all spiffy and business like. He looks like a kid…no pun intended…on Christmas.

Sanders: “Ah, James. Merry Christmas to you.”

James Evans: “Cut the foreplay, Sanders. We really don’t need to do the whole small talk bullshit do we?”

Sanders shrugs his shoulders.

Sanders: “No, I guess you’re right. Looks like you haven’t done shit to celebrate the holidays have you, James?”

I let out a sigh, knowing that he is already trying to get under my skin.

James Evans: “There’s nothing worth celebrating, Sanders, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get out of here.”

Sanders steps up and waves his finger in my face, like he is saying, “No, no, no” waving it back and forth in front of my face before speaking.

Sanders: “We will have plenty of time to celebrate, James. Well, going back to what I said the other night, I may have something to celebrate tonight. You on the other hand, I am not so sure about you.”

I shrug my shoulders before opening the door and motioning for Sanders to come on. He combs his hair back behind his ears, stuffing his hands in his pockets before stepping outside. I close the door behind me. I stand on the front porch, pulling my coat on as the rain is falling and there is a chance of snow. I look down and see Anton as well as Rodriguez standing at the bottom of the steps. I step down, acknowledge them both before getting into the vehicle. Sanders follows behind me, still being overly cheery and excited, pushing beyond annoyance.

Sanders: “So, James how is the family? Did you guys have any special Christmas plans? I remember your mom’s cooking. It was always great.”

I grind my teeth and shake my head, trying to remain calm despite the fact that my hand is clenching into a fist. I try my best to keep it concealed.

James Evans: “I wouldn’t know, Sanders. I don’t talk to my family. I don’t see them. But then again, I’m sure you know that so why must you fucking bring it up?”

Sanders: “Oh someone must not have gotten everything he asked for this Christmas. What’s the matter, James? It’s Christmas. You shouldn’t be in a foul mood. Tis the season to be jolly as they say.”

James Evans: “I’ve got nothing to be jolly about, Sanders. We both know that, so can you cut the bullshit? I may fucking die tonight so I’d like to have some peace and quiet before that happens. So please…shut up.”

Sanders begins to laugh as soon as the words exit my mouth. I feel myself growing more and more agitated. I am trying to keep cool because I know what is going to happen unlike Sanders. I tell myself that he has no idea what’s in store for him. I do and that brings a smile to my face, but I remind myself that I have to play my role which includes having to be annoyed by the son of a bitch.

Sanders: “No, James to be honest…I don’t think I can do that. It would be too out of character for me to be nice to you. Besides, if you hadn’t ran your mouth last time then we wouldn’t be going down this road now would we?”

I look ahead and I feel a smirk appear on my face, before I respond.

James Evans: “Sanders, there is a lot that has happened that has led us both to go down this road.”

I then turn my head and we lock eyes.

Sanders: “Oh is that so? You sound like you know something that I don’t? If that’s the case then why don’t you share with the rest of the class, James?”

I then turn away, just in time for Anton to slam on the brakes, as a black SUV pulls in front of us. Sanders turns away from me, looking outside as people in masks jump out of the SUV. Sanders then looks at me as I smirk.

James Evans: “Trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Sanders’ door is pulled open and I watch as he is dragged out of the vehicle. He is hit a few times with the butt of an assault rifle. Anton steps beside me, as we watch Sanders be lifted from the ground. He blows his hair out of his eyes before looking at Anton and I.

Sanders: “What…what the fuck is this shit? James…James what’s going on? Tell me what the fuck is going on right now!!!”

I smirk once more before turning and nodding at Anton who then delivers a few shots to the head and face of Sanders, knocking him out. I look around to see if anyone can see us, but I notice that we are on the outskirts of town. There’s not a soul in sight. I motion for Sanders to be loaded into the SUV. As he is being loaded up, Anton and I get back into Sanders’ car, before I tell him to just follow the SUV, which he does. I lean back, feeling anxious, nervousness creeping upon me, as I slowly tell myself that I am doing the right thing. I repeat it over and over in my head, to calm myself as we drive off into the night, with snow slowly beginning to fall.


December 26th, 2015

My father’s ghost calls out to me, breaking me from my trance.

Charles Evans: “What do you mean you’re always alone? You’ve had me and hell I may be gone, but you still have me. You may be banging that long legged beauty Kennedy before you know it. Hell, son you can have anyone you want in your life. You’re not alone.”

I scoff and shake my head, as I continue staring down at Sanders.

James Evans: “I’m almost thirty. I haven’t had the chance to settle down and actually meet someone. Something could happen with Kennedy but who knows. She is more of a people person than I am and I’m not even sure if this thing with us will go anywhere. But I’m getting older and I have spent my entire life on the run, assuming different identities, being someone else, that I haven’t had the chance to build my own life. And after telling you that I am done with all of this, I am scared to death about starting anew, because I have no clue as to what I am doing or where to start.”

Charles Evans: “There’s no point in trying to live one solid life. Going out and being whoever you want, whenever you want, being with whoever you want…that is the sort of life I lived. It was exciting. It was always fresh. I taught you everything that I know, because I didn’t want you to have some boring, overly ordinary life.”

James Evans: “Yet that is something that I believe I’d love more than anything else. I have wrestled with it for a long time and the closer I get to ending this fucker’s life down here, the more I realize that I would love to start my own before it’s too fucking late.”

There is a silence, a calm stillness in the room for a few short seconds that I enjoy, yet I find myself yearning for some sort of response. I feel a sense of relief when I get it.

Charles Evans: “Then stop stalling, James. You know what you have to do, what you need to do. You need to do something you should have done a long time ago, before this got to the point we’re at now.”

James Evans: “I just wish I knew that it’d be over after all of this, after Sanders is gone. I just have that horrible sense, that little voice saying that it won’t be.”

Charles Evans: “You will always be a part of this life, no matter how far you run from it, James. We both know that you know this. If you want to try and live a different life then by all means go with God, give it your best shot, but in the end, you will more than likely come crawling back. I have told you this before. I’m not sure why you fight it.”

I pause for a few moments, wondering why I do it myself, before finally turning and facing the ghost that has haunted me for years, even before my father’s death.

James Evans: “I fight it because in the end, I guess I feel that it’s worth it.”

The ghost smirks and shrugs his shoulders before replying.

Charles Evans: “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re wrong. Either way, in the end, we shall see.”

James Evans: “Maybe you’re right, but it’s gotta be worth a shot.”

I turn away and face the office window once more as I hear the ghost’s response, his words chilling me to the bone.

Charles Evans: “Then do what you have to do…”

I stand there for a few moments, knowing that I can’t waste any more time. Doing what I have to do is nerve wrecking, but it is something that needs to be done. Just as the ghost said, it is something that should have been done a long time ago. I remember saying that I was waiting for the right time. Now, standing here, I know that there is no better time than now. I turn to face the ghost once more but he’s gone. I shake my head, trying my best to gather my composure before walking across the room and opening the office door. I stand on the iron stairwell and I see Anton, Rodriguez, Daniel and a few of the masked guys we’ve used for the Mammon group Daniel and I created for the sole purpose of getting Sanders all alone. I make eye contact with each and every one of them before making my descent, joining them in the lower docks of the warehouse.

James Evans: “Is he still alive? The only reason I’m asking is because Anton over here knocked him the hell out like he’s Mike Tyson or something.”

We all share a brief laugh before Anton replies.

Anton: “I didn’t hit him that hard, bro. But yeah, he’s still alive.”

James Evans: “Well, I appreciate you leaving some for me at least.”

Anton: “No problem, no problem. He’s all yours.”

Daniel then lifts up a small briefcase. It is red leather on the exterior. He then opens it up, showing me the bright red interior of it, but then my eyes rest upon its contents. It is the .44 Magnum handgun my father bought for me when I was a kid because I loved Clint Eastwood and all of his “Dirty Harry” movies. I look at it and it is beautiful. I have never used it, but tonight I feel it is an appropriate time to put it to good use.

Daniel Smith: “It is polished and clean, just as you asked.”

I nod in approval before motioning for everyone to follow me as I walk towards to Sanders, still dangling on the chain. His feet barely scrape the ground. His clothes are roughed up and torn. I see a few cuts on his body from where I am guessing my crew did a number on him. Fuck him, I think to myself as I stop just a few short inches away from his nearly lifeless body. I then reach up, grabbing the black hood from over his head. Once it is removed, I take a step back looking at him in disgust. He appears frightened. He shudders as he looks around before locking eyes with me, as I crack a smile.

James Evans: “Hey there Sanders…Merry Christmas…Oh, you don’t look too happy big guy. What’s wrong? Something tells me that you don’t like the fact that you’re not in control like you have seemed to think you are. Would I be correct in that assumption?”

Sanders: “FUCK YOU!!!”

I begin laughing as I turn away and lock eyes with Daniel and a few of the other guys before I turn back to Sanders, my laughter ending as I drive my fist into the side of his skull. A few “OOOHHHHSSS” are heard from behind me. Sanders slowly lifts his head before we lock eyes.

James Evans: “Now, Sanders I know you have had this little tough guy act going for you, but that is done. There’s no need for it anymore. You’re not tough. You’ve done nothing but live off of a reputation bestowed upon you after my father died.”

Sanders: “Oh is that what this is about? You’re mad because I took over your daddy’s business? Cry me a fucking river, James. You never wanted it so I took it and I made it my own, something that you couldn’t do because you’re a pussy.”

James Evans: “You’re right, Sanders. I never really wanted it, but the fact that you pretty much fucking stole it from my father doesn’t sit well with me. And yeah you made it your own, but if you really think about it…you’re the pussy. You couldn’t start your own business and build it because you’re too fucking stupid to do it yourself. My father always knew that. He treated you like a son because I wasn’t around and he felt sorry for you.”

Sanders: “Yeah, so what if I stole it as you say I did? It was fucking easy. Your father was growing weak. He was growing a conscience. It was going to get him killed.”

We lock eyes yet again, as anger builds into the expression on my face, before I respond.

James Evans: “You say my father was growing weak…that he was growing a conscience? My father may have been a lot of things. He was a fucking horrible father. He thought a lot about himself but one thing he wasn’t was weak, Sanders. What he had was honor when it came to this business. You have no honor. You’ve shown nothing but disrespect, basically shitting on and wiping your ass with everything he built.”

Sanders: “Why do you care? You didn’t want it. Hell, you were only involved because of Briggs and all of those other fuckers. You were too busy doing whatever it was you were doing before coming back and coming after me.”

I shake my head, which stops Sanders from continuing to speak.

James Evans: “That is where you’re wrong, Sanders. I didn’t have to. I could have said no. I wanted to be here. All it took was for me to see the pictures of the lives that were taken because of you and you coming into power. So many innocent lives ended because of you…”

Sanders: “You act like your father was a saint, James. Apparently Charles Evans wasn’t the man you thought he was. He had people killed as well. He killed people himself so fuck you and the horse you rode in on you stupid bastard.”

I take a step or two forward, pressing my forehead into Sanders’, making sure our eyes are locked as I reply.

James Evans: “Like I said, my father may have been many things but one things he wouldn’t do…He wouldn’t take the lives of an innocent woman and her child…”

As the words exit my mouth, the images of Dawn and her child, their lifeless and bloodied bodies in the photos Briggs showed me enter my mind. The memories of waking up next to Dawn all of those years ago, telling her I had to leave her after we met in the café, all of the things I wanted to happen, all of the memories I wanted to build but will never be able to surface into my mind, but I am brought back to reality due to Sanders’ laughter.

Sanders: “Hahahaha….You found out about that huh? Hahaha…well, what can I say…They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time…”

I watch him as a smile appears on his face and more laughter spews from his belly. His eyes stay locked with mine, challenging me and in this case, I give in and accept the challenge. I grab under his armpits, lifting him off of the chain and slam him down on the ground. I watch as he tries to scurry away, but I lift my leg up high and slam my foot down as hard as I can, using as much weight as I can into the back of his knee. I stomp again and more cries of agony flee from his lungs. I then drive my foot into the side of his ribs over and over and over again. I look down as Sanders rolls over onto his back, tears streaming down his face as he holds his sides.

James Evans: “What’s the matter, Sanders? Does it hurt? Well if you ask me, I would have to say that you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I am sure you would have to agree, am I right?”

I lift my leg up again and drive it straight down into gut once, twice, three times and step away as he begins to vomit. I watch as he slowly rolls back over onto his stomach and using one arm, he tries to pull himself across the floor.

James Evans: “Where are you going, Sanders? There is no way I’m going to let you leave. You know that right? You don’t deserve to crawl out of here even if you are nothing more than some goddamn insect.”

I walk beside Sanders as he crawls. He reaches out with his left arm and I slowly press down onto his fingers with the heel of my boot. He lets out another agonizing scream, but this doesn’t faze me at all. I stare down at him, seeing him for what he truly is, what he always has been.

…A coward…


I smirk before kneeling down beside him, and replying, my voice almost in a whisper as if he is the only one I want to hear what I have to say.

James Evans: “I already have, Sanders. I already have. You are going to die tonight. Take comfort in that, because you really don’t have any other choice. No one is going to come save you. Whoever you have in your pocket…if they come after me then they will suffer the same fate that you’re about to suffer. You stole from my family, but most importantly you stole from me. Dawn and her daughter, they were going to be my out, they were going to be my world. They were going to be my shot at love and a normal life. I have never had that. Dawn saw something in me that that I was never able to give to anyone else, because she was always on my mind. I have children Sanders that I have nothing to do with because I can’t look at their mother and not see Dawn. I wanted a life with her and I found out you had her killed…and her fucking daughter…You took away my shot at a life, now you son of a bitch I am going to end yours…”

I look around the warehouse before looking back down at him, before I continue to speak.

James Evans: “And it’s fitting…this warehouse, this is where my father did his business, the same place you walked into looking for a job after you dropped out of high school. This is where you got your start and this is where you fucking die…”

I climb to my feet and in one swift motion, the gun is aimed at Sanders. I look at him in disgust before a smirk appears on my face. It doesn’t take long for it to disappear as I squeeze the trigger and begin to fire, squeezing the trigger long after the bullets have left the chamber, just like the air in Sanders’ lungs, just like the life in his body.

I let my arm fall by my side, my fingers loosen from around the gun and it drops to the floor at my feet. I don’t take my eyes off of Sanders. I just stare, slowly catching my breath.