“Weird people come out at night” my father used to say in his gentle kind voice. “Dangerous people come out pumpkin and you do not want to meet them ok?” my father repeated softly. I nodded my head every time but for some reason it never stuck. Never ever did. Maybe if I listened to him I would be in school today.

It was a cold summers Eve and I was walking home from my best friend Jessica’s house she offered to ride me home but the ever stubborn me refused. Why did I refuse you ask? I don’t know I wish I wasn’t stubborn. I was about two blocks away from my house when I heard a deafening shot.

A gun shot. It wasn’t me. No it couldn’t have been me. I felt a strong pain in my stomach but I thought that was just fear or something girly like that. When I was 1 blocks away I looked at my stomach and saw red. Blood. So much blood. Spreading all across my white cotton dress. “oh my god! HELP!” I screamed my voice piercing through the midnight air. But it was too late everything went dark and my last thoughts were ‘I am going to die tonight at age 15 I’m sorry dad’

I woke up in a sterilised hospital, with white bedsheets and like a million layers of bandage around my stomach. So much I could barely breathe. Before I could properly assess my surroundings my father rushed in his chocolate brown eyes glittering with worry and anger.

“I’m so happy your okay but what did I tell you about walking home alone Emily!” my dad whispered in my ear in a bittersweet tone.

I am never walking home again. Bad idea. Bad idea…