I fell off a balcony in attempt to save my own life. A gun pointed at my head made all sense fly out the sliding glass door to the balcony. I followed. Out on the balcony I saw a bright blue pool, my bright blue pool. A loud gunshot rushed my decision making; I hurried to the railing and looked down at the wavering pool. I felt dizzy and a feared I would throw up. I seriously didn’t to deal with vomiting; I probably get a bullet in my head before I could empty the contents in my stomach. I climbed onto the rail, and everything slowed down and I felt frozen. I stood on the top of the railing, wind blowing my blond hair back from my face. I thought about my mother’s favorite movie, Titanic, wear Jack and Rose stood on the front of the boat, wind blowing their hair back. I looked to my right and in the slowness of it all, a watched a bullet fly past me. I turned and looked at the gunman standing at the door way. I twisted in the air and fell backwards. Down, down I fell to the crystal blue water. I played dead as I floated in the water, hoping I would fool the gunman, well gun-woman. I played dead all the way to the hospital, but at the hospital, I really died, for a full 5 minutes. Luckily the talented hospital staff shocked the life back into me. They pumped blood and pool water from my stomach, because after I fell into my bright blue pool, that chick with a gun put half a round in me. That terrible aimer was my best friend.


Velma Simmons and I met the beginning of our freshman year. We both had just moved to Blossom Heights, a rich, urban town, with mansions galore. We had spent the night at each other’s house every weekend. We looked like sisters, corn silk blond and brilliant blue eyes, and medium height. Velma, though, was vengeful. If someone spread a single rumor about Velma, well Velma quickly and efficiently took care of their reputation, just ask Alexandria Estel. I won’t go into detail, but Alexandria sat by herself at lunch and had gum stuck all over her locker for the rest of the year. Velma was always proud of her ability to trash a single person in less than a day. Velma had brains, very smart, but if anyone teased her for it, they would regret the day they were born in the same generation as Velma Lorraine Simmons.

“Knock knock,” my mother pushed open the hospital room door. Her big childlike eyes hid the fear well behind her relief, that I was doing better, health wise.

“Are you hungry,” she stood at the end of my bed, a t-shirt and sweats on.

I nod, because I fear if I talk a detective will come and ask me about that dreadful day I was terrorized and eventually shot. I’m not really hungry, but I know it will be a relief to her if I act normal.

“I will be right back, promise,” she ducked out of the room before I could change my mind.

While she was gone, Nurse Daylin came and checked my temperature and stuff. She was gentle and sweet. She was very young, 22 at the most. Her soft brown hair curled at the bottom a little and her warm brown eyes were always smiling.

“How are you feeling, Brianna?” I held up one finger for good, which made her smile.

“Excellent,” she patted my arm gently and left the room, holding the door for my mom; who’s arms were full.

“Thank you,” my mom thanked Nurse Daylin and sat the tray and bottles of water on the table. She helped me sit up before giving me the tray with a bowl of soup on it.

I ate my soup slowly, and forced myself to finish it.

“Mom?” my voice was gruff and weak.

“Yes, darling?” I noticed that she wasn’t very surprised to see me able to talk.

“Don’t make me talk to any detectives, please.” My voice was pathetic, but I really feared talking to the detectives. They always were so intimidating on TV.

“I wouldn’t make you, but maybe if you told them all you remember they would be able to catch… well, catch you shooter. “ The word “shooter” hung out in the air awkwardly.

“I saw who it was,” I felt my palms get a little sweaty and my heart beat a couple beats faster.

My mom closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing her mind for my answer.

“Who was it, honey?” Her voice was quiet and hard.

“Velma,” the name hung more awkwardly than the word “shooter” did, and I felt that the whole hospital had stopped to hear the name.

My mom opened her eyes, looking at me with painful sympathy.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. I can’t even imagine why this happened to you.” Her eyes looked a little watery.


The next day, my mom had gone to go to the vending machine to get me some Cheeto’s, my all time favorite. She was only gone a moment or two before she popped back in the room and shut the door. I was disappointed to see her hands empty.

“Two detectives are out there talking to the nurse.” My disappointment twisted its self into the fear. She had her back against the door like she was trying to keep them out.

I took a deep breath and tried to get everything collected, unsuccessfully.

My mother opened the door a moment before the man at it knocked. She put on a smile and introduced herself.

“I’m Brook Wessal, Brianna’s mother.”

A tall, slightly handsome, man with a boyish hair cut shook my mom’s hand.

“Pleased to meet you Ms. Wessal,” the man smiled at my mom.

He introduced himself and “Detective Edgar Spencers” and my mother let him step into the room. Her eyes flashed to mine as the detective made his way over to my bed.

He seated himself in a chair close to my bed.

“Well, Brianna, I’m not here for a full interrogation.” His eyes were sincere. “I just have a couple questions. They’re easy, no-brainers. “He pulled a silver ball point pen and note pad from a pocket inside his coat.

“Do you remember anything about the gunman?”

“Her name is Velma Simmons,” I swallowed the lump in my throat and coughed up some confidence.

“She used to be my best friend, but I’m pretty sure we aren’t even friends anymore. I’m pretty sure she had one of her step dad’s guns, she always bragged while she was threatening people that she had access to them.”

I glanced over at my mother, whose eyebrows were knit together worriedly. She was hugging herself, and I could tell this was harder for her than it was for me. She was biting her bottom lip and her eyes were flickering in between me and Detective Spencers.

“Well, now that’s some pretty good evidence.” His eyes brows were raised, and her was writing vigorously on his not pad.

“Thank you very, very much, Brianna.” He replaced his notepad and ballpoint pen back to their place in his coat. He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up slowly, like he was having trouble with it. He turned to my mother and pulled a card out of his coat pocket.

“Call me anytime, Ms. Wessal.” He winked at her and her nervousness fell out the window, and she smiled at him.


My mother held the door open for me. I breathed in the familiar smell of home.

“Lucie’s missed you a lot; she’s been real lonely lately.” Lucie, my loyal Labrador retriever was sweet as honey. Lukie, her brother was loyal too and a tad bit more aggressive. He had attacked Velma in my time of need. Unfortunately, Velma had the upper hand.

“Lucie!” My mom called out loudly. I expected to the pounding of paws and tails, but Lucie walked down the stairs to the kitchen slowly, her head down. Her normally bright eyes were dull.

I knelt down and hugged and scratched her ears, but her tail didn’t even wag. She pulled away a slowly, but surely, climbed the stairs back to the kitchen. I followed her up into the spotless kitchen. She headed back over to the dog beds in the corner. A pink one for her and Lukie’s blue one was still there. She curled up on his bed and looked at me true puppy dog eyes. A lump returned into my throat. I sat next to Lucie on Lukie’s bed and petted her gently, trying to hold back my tears.



That night at dinner, my mom ordered stuffed crust pizza and we watched my favorite movie. We ate a whole carton of ice cream and Lucie even laid on my bed at night with me.

“Hey, darling, wake up time, we are going to go shopping.” I sat up and blinked my eyes. My mom was sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Really?” we never went shopping on a Tuesday.

“Yep, it’s my day off, so we are going to spend it having fun, and pretending nothing crazy ever happened to us.”

Pretending is easier said than done, but it felt nice to try. We went to the mall and tons of people talked to me, some I didn’t even know. Everyone was so happy and nice. They always told me how they were so happy that I was alive, I got a bunch of free stuff, too.

We sat in the car at a drive through, McDonalds.

“What do you want again?”

“Just fries,” my appetite still hadn’t recovered quite right. I was thin and it was somewhat embarrassing to be only 85 pounds when I am 14 years old. I knew it worried my mom, but she didn’t say anything, to soon.

I ate my fries with honey as we drove home. They taste better that way. At the mall I had bought Lucie a new toy, and a new collar. I had gotten a whole new wardrobe as well. When we went into a swim suit store it was pretty awkward.

“Do you still want to swim?”

“No, not now or the nearby future,” I stood at the entrance of the store, feeling out of place.

“It’s fine, no swim suit shopping,” my mom put her arm around my shoulders and we left to a shoe store, because I love shoes the most.



My whole world felt foreign, alien, upside down. Even after Velma was shipped away to a distant juvenile delinquent center, I couldn’t stay home alone, to nerve racking to even think about. Velma’s sent me tons of letters, all of which I put through a paper shredder, some even before I read them. My house smells wonderful from all the flowers from neighbors, most students at my school, and most the teachers, and people from my mom’s work. My room is cluttered now, it’s so full of stuffed animals, it’s hard to walk. I even got a purple teddy bear from Alexandria. It’s one of my favorites so it sits with four others that I have labeled my favorite. My only dog is mentally wounded, and I’m pretty sure she’s never going to get better. I don’t go swimming any more, either. My new best friends, Darbie, Macayla, and Alexandria, all come over a bunch, too, to swim. I even put on a swim suit and sit by the pool and watch them swim. They don’t ever pressure me to get in, they understand that it’s hard. Yes, we got the pooled cleaned very well, it’s clear of my blood. My mom is dating Edgar now, too, or known better as Detective Spencers. I have to say, he’s a pretty nice guy and my mother just adores him. He’s always over at the house, and oddly enough he makes me feel safe, he knows how to shoot a gun better than most people, odd because when he’s here he usually doesn’t have a gun with him, but I still feel safe. So even though I won’t ever live a normal life again, even though Velma killed my dog and my confidence to be alone, I forgive her. Maybe one of these days I will write her back, maybe.