Chelsea knocks. “Can I borrow your hair dryer? Mine just stopped working.”

I answer her through the closed door. “Not right now.”

“What do you mean?” Chelsea wiggles the handle. “B, let me in.”

I’ve jammed the chair in front of it, so it doesn’t budge.

“What the hell?”

I don’t respond. I thumb through the photos on my phone. Bethany, Vic, Sam, all going to their dream college. When Hersh died, I hadn’t even bothered applying. I couldn’t. I barely pulled through to get my diploma last week.

“B!” Chelsea is shouldering the door now.

“Go away Chels, not right now.”

The bullet slides into the chamber. I close the cylinder. Just two finger movements, and it’s over. Thumb then first finger.

No practice rounds. Dad only left one bullet in his sock drawer. Mom and Dad would be upset, but they would be okay. They had Chels. She was the better of us twins anyway. Came out first and never stopped going. My whole life revolved around Hersh after I met her. More than anything, I just don’t want to think anymore. I’m tired. I’m ready to rest.

I cock the hammer. Chelsea is really laying into the door now. I better do this before she…

She breaks in. I don’t think. I aim the gun, pull the trigger, only I don’t shoot myself. I shoot Chels. I didn’t mean to…when she burst in, she startled me. I collapse on top of her and hug her as tight as I can while she dies beneath me.



Copyright WB Welch – All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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