A normal day in the life of [Redacted]

I woke up that morning feeling like today was going to be an awful day. And boy was I right.

My mum dragged me all over, stating that we needed to get together more often for 'bonding time'… what a load of BS.

I was perfectly fine living by myself somewhere far away from her. I knew I should've relocated somewhere without telling her!

Anyway, here we were, minding our own business, doing a shopping spree just for the heck of it, when we heard gunshots in the vicinity.

I froze in fright, while my mum just clicked her tongue, saying "Do you believe these guys? It should be illegal to play sounds of a gun going off in a mall. Like, seriously! Scaring all of us for no good reason other than a laugh. How immature."

What she didn't know (because she had her back turned while looking at some makeup) was that it wasn't fake, and the people who shot the gun did not take kindly to my mum mocking them.

They sent one person towards us and I feared for my life.

My body still didn't respond to me. I couldn't move to warn my mum, I couldn't even make a single sound. I was useless. And I was going to get my mum killed. This was not how my day was meant to go.

The person they sent toward us (let's call him George so he at least has a pseudonym to go by) was now close enough to grab me by the collar of my shirt, and gruffly capture my mum's arm. George started pulling us towards his group, but my mum apparently hadn't had enough. She stared mouthing off, convinced that it was me holding her arm captive, and not a terrorist. She hadn't turned around yet, for some reason, and I could only mutely follow George as he dragged me away.

As George pulled harder to get my mum to go, she finally had enough smarts in her to turn around mid-sentence and freeze in fright, her actions finally catching up to her.

Now, George wasn't a particularly scary guy, in fact he was pretty normal-looking for a terrorist, but he had a gun pointed at my mum's head, which is probably how she got the hint to shut up.

George finally had two willing puppets to drag over to his leader (who we shall now call Henry, 'cause why not?).

Henry had sent out a few other people to round up all the idiots who talked back to the terrorists. So we were herded towards a group of people who were all sitting in one corner, fear evident in their eyes.

Henry then used the megaphone he was holding, and turned the volume up to the limit.

"To all of you who are hiding, come out within 10 minutes, or else we will be forced to kill these poor souls who had the audacity to talk back to us. If you do not show yourself within the set time, we will kill one person every minute you do not give yourself up as an example of what happens when someone defies us. The countdown starts now."

The ten minutes count down excruciatingly quickly, and they are soon forced to line us up in a row. There are around 30 of us in this row, and I'm second in line.

The first minute passes in heavy silence, then a loud Bang! resounds around the entire shopping mall. The body next to me slumps to the ground in a weird way. I look at them for a quick peek. I've kind of always wanted to know what a dead body looks like, in that sort of morbid way that basically everyone feels. Or most people. I'm sure there are people who have no interest in dead bodies, but I've always had a weird interest in them. I've just never had the chance to see one (and with good reason).

As soon as I register what I am seeing with my own eyes, a minute has passed and a gun is pointed at my head. My mother cannot protest, as her hands and feet have all been tied together in an attempt to make sure she doesn't move. They also placed duct-tape on her mouth to make sure she can't talk back.

She looks so helpless there, all tied up. A direct contrast to how she was a few hours ago. Her constant need to assert her dominance in all situations had caused me to consider suicide on more than one occasion. Luckily, I didn't go through with it, because now I can see this amazing sight.

I then remember the gun, and look toward my imminent death, pleading, almost begging for it to end me. Now that I've seen my mum in that state, there is nothing left for me to do in this world.

The barrel of the gun is so close, and the trigger is pressed down lightly, almost enough to shoot the bullet. Just a few more seconds and I'll have my long-awaited dream.

George is the one holding my fate in his hands, and although he had just killed a random stranger a minute ago, he still looks so hesitant. Almost regretful. Huh weird.

Anyway, shouldn't I be dea-

Bang!

The gun recoils in a telling way. The bullet is shot out of the chamber and flies at me at an incredible speed. It enters my brain and blood showers everywhere. All I can remember before I black out is the sweet relief of freedom.