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.