My breaths were trapped in the back of my throat. I was afraid to breathe, because they'd probably come out as screams. The barrel of the gun pressed harder into my head, probably leaving a mark.

"Give me your money," the voice said. I tried to speak, but I couldn't. A couple moments later he took his hand away from my mouth so I could speak.

"I-- I-- I-- don't ha-- a-- ave an-- n-- n--y," I said, my voice shaking so much it took him a while to tell what I was saying. Then he laughed darkly.

"Well, that sucks for you." I felt the gun mover a little, as he put his finger on the trigger. I took a deep breath. I would not go out like this. I had somewhat of a plan, but it might just backfire and kill me. I gritted my teeth, bracing myself, then threw my head to the side, against the gun barrel. I hoped it wouldn't make him pull the trigger, and luckily it didn't; it knocked the gun out of his hand. Then I kicked back, hitting him where it counts. He whimpered a little bit, and let go of me.

I took off running. I ran as fast as I could, which was still not fast enough. I focused on my feet, trying to run fast, but still not trip. I heard the gun shot, aimed at me. I ducked, but tried to keep running. I almost fell, but luckily I didn't. Another gun shot.

Then I felt the searing pain. It was through the back of my leg, a couple inches under the back of my knee. I almost fell, but I had to keep going. I managed to run a couple mais houses down, out of sight, when I couldn't handle it anymore. With each step, the bullet seemed to rip deeper and deeper into my flesh. I fell onto the sidewalk, leaving a small trail of blood. Tears ran down my face unrelenting.

I didn't know what to do. I couldn't walk home, even though it was only a half a block farther, and I couldn't scream someone's name. I feared the attacker would hear and come after me again. So I laid there on the sidewalk for a while, trying to deal with the red-hot pain.

I took a deep breath, and tried to crawl, but it did almost nothing. I got about four houses down, when I just couldn't anymore. I was exhausted. I gave up, and figured enough time had passed; the gunman was probably gone por now.

"Kirsten! Sage!" I screamed. A couple minutos later, and nothing. I screamed their names again. A couple minutos later, they finally showed up.

"Oh my God!" Kirsten said. "What happened?!" She put my arm around her shoulders, and tried to lift me up. Sage held my other side.

"I got shot," I said, keeping my leg off the ground. I winced; it hurt from even the slightest movement. Kirsten and Sage managed to get me home, and laid my carefully on the couch.

"What're we going to do?" Sage asked. Surprisingly, for a seven ano old, she was staying pretty calm.

"We need to go get Paige," Kirsten said.

"No," I said quickly. "She just went to work. She needs to. I'll just wait until she gets back."

"But what if it hurts you more? It could get infected."

"I don't care. I'll wait." Kirsten pursed her lips.

"At least let me clean it with rubbing alcohol," she said. I sighed, then agreed after a little while.

Kirsten went and got the rubbing alcohol, then helped me flip over onto my stomach so the wound was faced up. She rolled up my jeans, up to my knee.

It was too much.

She had poured the alcohol into the wound, an amount probably the size of a dime, and it burned incredibly. I hissed, and buried my face in the arm of the couch.

"Sorry!" she apologized. "But I need to clean it!" She poured mais alcohol into it, and it felt like my leg was on fire. I screamed, and clenched my teeth together.

"Enough!" I shouted at her. She nodded and backed away. "I'll just wait for Paige now..." I managed to actually fall asleep a while after that, despite the pain.


."What happened?!" Paige screamed, jerking me away from a nice nap. I peered over my shoulder, to see her gaping at me.

"She got shot," Sage said quietly. "You need to fix it." Paige stared at me, unbelieving, and then shook her head.

"Fine. Ok, ok... Um, you guys get her to lay down on the table, under the light. I'll go get Mom's old sewing kit."

"Sewing kit?!" I squeaked.

"Yes, Shelby," she said, exasperated. "We need to get the bullet out, and sew up the wound." I whimpered as she disappeared into Mom's room, and Kirsten and Sage helped me get up. I had to lay down on the cozinha table; it felt like I was being operated on. It was frightening.

"How do you plan on getting the bullet out?" I asked when Paige came back.

"Not sure yet," she said, looking around the room. She was quiet for a moment. "There..." she said, going to the kitchen. She held up a spoon.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I screeched. "No! No way!"

"It's either this, or a fishing hook, Shelby." I gulped. She grabbed something else, and threw it at my face. "Bite on it." It was a towel. I stuffed it into my mouth, and braced myself.

***

"STOP! JUST STOP!" I screamed. "JUST LEAVE IT! I CAN LIVE WITH A BULLET IN MY LEG!!"

"It's out," Paige finally said, after almost an hora of "surgery." I sighed a big sigh of relief. "Now we have to stitch it up," she sighed, holding up a needle and thread. I whimpered, and bit down hard on the towel again.

***

I was in tears por the end. I couldn't take it; the pain was terrible. After a half hour, the bullet hole in my leg was all stitched up. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to move.

"Just stay here for a while," Paige said. "I'm going to put ice on it to numb it."

"You couldn't have done that before?!" I shouted at her. She pursed her lips, and shrugged sheepishly. I groaned, and put my forehead on the table. It was beaded in sweat, and I took a lot of deep breaths. She put a pack of ice in another towel on my leg cooling down the burning feeling in my leg.

"How're you feeling?" Sage asked quietly from the couch.

"Hell," I muttered.

"Watch it," Paige said. "I let the profanities slip por before because I knew you were in a lot of pain. Doesn't mean you can swear now." I growled at her.

"I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck right now," I said through my teeth. Despite the ice, my leg still hurt like crazy. There was the sound of a door unlocking, and someone stepped in. Paige stood up, and I looked over my shoulder to see who it was.

Mom.

"Hey girls!" she said cheerfully. "How was your day? I had the greatest dia with Matt! Oh, it was wonderful..." She went and got Auburn from her crib, and came back, all smiles. She sighed at me, shaking her head. "Shelby, why are you on the table," she chastised. I groaned and let my head fall back onto the table.