[ WP ] Your best friend is shooting up your middle school , and hands you a gun , without your prior knowledge to the event .

It felt strange in my hand. Heavier than I expected. I knew how to use it, but I never had. Not this kind at least. This is n't the kind of weapon you shoot pumpkins in the back yard with. As I stared at it, I slowly realized he was still going on about the whole thing. His eyes were lit up, his arms waving around as he stumbled over his words. I noticed his severe lack of trigger discipline. 
 
 `` Josh...'' I interrupted. He did n't seem to notice.. `` JOSH!''... 
 
 He stopped. His face went from wide-eyed and excited, to narrow and concerned. He lifted a single eyebrow. It was such a sudden change. A second ago he would n't shut the fuck up, but now he spoke only with his expression. 
 
 `` Josh this is n't you... I do n't know who you are right now, but you're not the Josh I've been friends with since kindergarten...'' His expression did n't change. I tried a new approach.. `` Look around you. Look at what you're doing, man. Yeah Caleb was an asshole, and yeah, Gabe stuffed your head in a toilet a few times, but this?'' 
 
 I was no wordsmith. I suddenly became aware of my heart pounding. My knees shaking. The smell of blood. I fought back the nausea and focused on his face. His eyes were colder now. He did n't want to hear what I was saying. 
 
 `` Fuck you, dude'' He said softly. `` You're gon na stand here and tell me that it was n't that bad? That I did n't have it rough?'' He paused. Suddenly his demeanor changed again. `` YOU DO N'T FUCKING KNOW WHAT KIND OF SHIT I PUT UP WITH, ELLIOT! YOU SAW THE BRUISES, BUT YOU PLAYED IT OFF LIKE IT WAS JUST PART OF GROWING UP!'' He paused again. I was scared. Speechless. His demeanor snapped back to the happy excitement he was showing before. It was scary how quickly his mood changed. Unnatural. `` So come on, Ellie.. give me a hand here.'' He said with a slight laugh that sent shivers down to the pit of my stomach. Again I fought back the nausea. 
 
 He turned and strutted down the hallway. There was a bounce in his step, like he was enjoying the whole thing. He did n't even seem angry. Just happy. Skipping along, laughing as he popped off rounds into any poor soul that was n't hiding well enough. 
 
 **POP**... He stopped dead in his tracks. I was suddenly aware again. The gun was still in my hand, only my hand was no longer down at my side. It was out in front of me. Shaking. Pointed at Josh... I shot him.... He turned around slowly. There was a look on his face that I will never forget. It haunts me to this day. So much sadness. Disappointment. I could tell he felt betrayed. Hurt. By the one person that was left. The one person he thought would see the whole situation with the same sick and twisted justification that he did. He was wrong. He slowly looked down at the spot on his shirt where the bullet left his body. The blood was soaking through at an alarming rate, but he did n't seem to be in pain. From the bullet, that is. He looked back up at me with tears forming in the corners of his bloodshot eyes. His left hand lifted to clutch the wound. I stood, frozen except for the tears that streamed down my face. 
 
 It was a weird feeling. I was sad, but not because my best friend was about to die in front of me from a shot that I fired, but because I knew deep down that he was already gone. At some point during that last conversation, i must have realized that this person in front of me was not the Josh I had known for so long. Maybe it was guilt. Like I should have seen it coming. I do n't know for sure, but I was n't thinking about it at the time. I was n't thinking anything. My body and mind were frozen in that moment. Everything was silent. My ears were still ringing from the shots that were fired, and my eyes burned from the tears. My wrist hurt too. Probably from the lack of experience shooting a pistol. 
 
 I watched it happen in slow motion. Josh, tears streaming down his face, slowly fell to his knees. Still clutching his wound in one hand and the gun in the other. Without saying anything, he sniffed one last sniff, lifted the gun to his own head, looked me in the eyes, and pulled the trigger.
