Man Down

'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 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.'

Only three years after Justin got into the wrong business, has it come back to bite him.

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5. Four

Brooke’s P.O.V;

It had been a week since the day I shot and killed Justin Bieber. I was still thinking about it but not as much. My boss, Jade Asgills, had phoned me up to congratulate me. I wasn’t as enthusiastic as she was about his death but I was a pretty good at pretending different emotions, after all I had to pretend life was perfect everyday just so Jake could be happy. What my three year old son didn’t know it was far from perfect, his life was threatened every other day and his mommy had to kill innocent people, other murderers and terrorists just to keep him safe.

Jade had rambled on a bit about how men were a waste of space anyways and she hoped my Jake didn’t turn out like her ex Steve was.

Ugh. How I hated her, I couldn’t stand when she talked about my son. I wanted her to leave me and my small family alone. She took away my mother and father a long time ago just so I would help her and when I fell pregnant with Jake she had told me she would end his life as quickly as it got started if I tried anything funny. I was stuck.

---

I slouched down onto the sofa, thinking once again about what had happened last week. I felt bad. The words ‘He could’ve been somebody’s son’ were still present in my mind; Justin was around my age, I knew that for sure, and I wouldn’t want Jake getting to seventeen and then being murdered. It felt wrong to think about it like that because I knew I would teach my son right and he would grow up to be successful unlike his mother and Justin Bieber, so it just sounds stupid to even have those thoughts but I couldn’t shake them away.

I decided I’d do something today to try and distract myself. I had left Jake in the hands of my very capable, most trustworthy friend in the whole world; Abigail. She promised to look after him until eight o’clock tonight so I had plenty of me time.

She was two years older than me and looked out for me just like an older sister would but she had no idea of the ‘career’ I led. I couldn’t tell her. Even if she was the closest person to me, I couldn’t risk our friendship and I couldn’t risk her giving up on Jake. I needed her too much and she had become sort of an auntie figure for my son. He loved her so much that telling her the all honest truth was made too difficult for me to do.

Snapping back out of my thoughts I headed upstairs to get ready, I washed in the shower then dried off and got changed into some sweats, a plain t-shirt and a hoodie – I wasn’t dressing to impress – I brushed my hair up neatly and tied it with my lucky band.

After I had finished adding a little foundation and mascara I head out to the local supermarket. I was planning to pick up some things, food-wise, for Jake.

---

I wheeled the shopping cart down the last aisle; all I had picked up so far was some turkey sandwich strips, spaghetti O’s, oats, fizzy cola bottles, soda and a fruit loaf – I admit I’m not the most responsible mother when it comes to healthy diets – I wasn’t looking where I was going when I bumped into another cart.

“I’m so so so sorry, Oh my goodness I’m sorry” I apologised over and over. I looked up into two ice blue eyes and I got lost. His face was so perfect and his smile was to die for. I blushed a little noticing I had been staring.

“No worries, Hey I’m Craig.” I nodded

“Hi C-Craig, I’m Brooke, I’m sorry” I said again.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Do you ever stop apologising?”

“No sorry” I sighed “Well I better get home my so- Never mind, I just gotta go” I said sadly.

Craig nodded and smiled “Well it was nice bumping into you, literally, See you around”

I smiled “Yeah you too, See ya.”

I paid for all my groceries before heading back to my car and driving home.

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