The sound of the bullet leaving my gun, as I pulled down hard on the trigger, pierced through the air. My hand shook as I stared out into the now panicked crowd.

Through all the mayhem and madness of central station I had still managed to hit my target.

He was finally down.

Justin Bieber was finished forever.

I smiled weakly knowing I had finally achieved my goal but I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming pang of guilt.

“Could’ve been somebody’s son...”

I needed to get out of sight, fast. I crept quickly back to my car; dodging all the frantic, worried people. I climbed into the driver’s seat and sped away from the chaos.

Leaving behind a legacy for myself;

I was the girl who killed the Justin Bieber, I was the girl who took his heart when I pulled out my gun.

It was me; Brooke Olivia James.