Evelyn stared down the barrel of the gun. She wish she knew what kind of gun it was, but all she could think was Damn, that thing is big. She pressed back into the concrete wall of the stairwell, her dirty blonde hair falling in waves around her face. She rubbed her eyes with her fists, clearing them of tears. She resumed glaring at Dave defiantly.

“So what, Dave, are you going to shoot me?” She snapped, throwing her arms out to her sides. “I’ve saved your ass so many times, when you were late or- or sick. You’re just gonna shoot me?” Her eyes filled with water again, but she could see the gun lower. She thought it might be a shotgun, but she wasn’t sure- hell, she wouldn’t know a shotgun if it bit her on the ass, of course she wasn’t sure. Tears of anger streamed down her cheeks.

“N-no…” Dave whispered, “Just… Please go, Evelyn.” He was crying, too, she realized. What had happened to him? Why was he doing this? She opened her arms to him, to give him a shoulder to cry on. She stepped, he shot.