"Put it down, you're not a killer, you don't want to make any irrational mistakes here. There's a lot I can do for you."

"The only thing you can do for me is die!"

This is it. I'm either going to do it, or he's going to kill me. He's probably got a gun in his belt, and he's going to take it out and kill me right now.

"LJ, put the gun down, and we'll talk about this. Your mother wouldn't have wanted you to become a murderer," he said, with his hands up in a peace gesture.

"Don't talk about her! You have no idea what she would have wanted!" It was supposed to be an intimidating yell, but it came out more like a shriek. We were both trying our hardest to conceal our fear. He knew I had plenty of motivation. I knew that I was afraid to pull the trigger, and put an end to somebody's life.

No, LJ, you are not having second thoughts. He deserves to die for what he did.

"You don't really want to kill me LJ. Give me the gun. No, don't give it to me, just put it on the floor," he said, seeing the look on my face at the very idea of giving that man a gun. I was winning. He was scared. His voice raised almost an entire octave after my outburst.

"Give me one good reason why you don't deserve two in the chest and one in the head."

Stop stalling. Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him. Blow off his head and chop it into a million pieces. Do it now.

He was walking closer. Closer. His hands were moving towards his belt.

"Keep your hands where I can see them. I'm not kidding around, this gun is loaded!"

"You aren't going to shoot me, LJ. You're afraid. Even after all you've been through, you're still a little boy."

"No I'm not," I whispered. I'd speak louder if I could. I didn't know if he could hear me, his hands were still fumbling with his holster. I don't think he knew that I could see him. I let my finger slowly apply more and more pressure.

"Please, put it down LJ, please."

I took a deep breath and heard a bang, followed with the sound of a grown man hitting the wooden floor. Before I knew what I was doing, I heard the horrible noise five more times, each splashing my face and my clothes in blood.

I actually did it.

I looked at the body before me. This man, Agent Kelly or whoever the hell Veronica said he was, had a mutilated face that was unrecognizable. The sight made me drop my gun and gag. After wiping away the remaining horrified tears, I turned around and walked out.

I'll just forget, pretend he disappeared.

But I knew it would be impossible.