No title-Just an impact (Hopefully)

Sometimes the most important events can happen on some of the most unassuming days. The world can fall out of axis any minute now. The sun could explode without warning. A person could die in two minutes flat. You could lose everything in a single breath. You never know. And there's no way you could ever be the same.

Such events befell a young girl of 15 named Penny Morris. She was what her folks would call simple but brilliant. Light brown hair, dark brown skin, brilliant emerald eyes that could catch anyone's breath. She had a typical middle class life, went to school, had slightly better than average grades, made good loyal friends, and her career were not at the fore front. Though she was knowledgeable of her surroundings, there were many things that she remained ignorant towards.

The unassuming day for Penny would fall on a Tuesday in April. It was a typical day, not much out of the ordinary happened. Note taking and worksheets for her classes. Jokes and chatter with her friends. friends. Her parents did have to go see her grandmother in the hospital though. Her grandmother had been ill for many months now. They said as they got home that they would most likely not be home until around three the next morning. This was not unusual for the family though.

Penny was delighted to be on her own for a while. It meant screaming her favorite songs and running around like a lunatic. The stuff a girl of 25 would do when they're alone by themselves.

Once she ran out of breath from scream singing, she sat and simply listened to music. Her playlist on an endless loop. Playing one song after another until it was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. Panic seized her. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed on the hard wood flooring of the kitchen. Penny was pale and shaking.

I'm not alone.

She crept out of her room, careful not to make a sound. She peeped out into the kitchen. There was a man in there. He was maybe 40 years old or so. He was dressed in a black t- shirt and black jeans. He had wavy black hair that wasn't under a ski mask you see in crime shows and stuff.

There's a man in my house. She thought. What's he doing here? Are we being robbed?

Shoot. She thought. Should have brought something to defend myself. But it was too late now. He turned around just as this thought surfaced. Their eyes met. her emerald to his sapphire. sapphire. He froze, Penny's heart stopped. Then he pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at her. Tears sprung to her eyes. Panic was a weight on her chest making it hard to breath. Her hands couldn't stop trembling and the determination in his eyes gave her no reassurance that he wouldn't shoot.

      She stared down the black barrel. There's a small silver bullet in there. So small, yet so deadly. If he pulls the trigger, I'll die for sure. Fear gave way to despair as she realized that she would die here. She never thought she would die young. But here she was. About to die by some random stranger.

      Don't die here. I don't want to die here. I will not die here. She thought, trying to muster up some courage to speak.       

      “Think about me, please! Would you have liked to die at my age? How could you live with yourself after stealing the life of a stranger for no other reason than you needed their money? How? Are you willing to point the abyss of that gun barrel at somebody who has a life? A family? A future? Could you now think of a hundred other ways out of this? Because I can. I'll give you ten right now. Please, I don't want to die!”

      At this point Penny was sobbing. Trembling with fear that the man would shoot, end her life with nothing more than just a squeeze of a finger. Though the man was trembling now too, trying not to cry as her words took their toll.

      “I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I DON'T WANT TO DIE!” She screamed.

    “Shut up! You'll alert the neighbors!” The man yelled. Trying to hold on to a bit of confidence. All his life he had shot without a second thought. Now, however, the faces of all those he had killed flashed in his mind. Men, women, children. she was right, all complete strangers, and he had killed them for his own needs. Every single face appeared in technicolor, their last pleads haunting his hearing.

      “Please! Please!” Penny screamed again.      

      “Shut up! Shut up! Stop! Please stop!” His voice broke. He was crying, sobbing. The faces crowding his conscious. The thoughts of their families, what they could have been, yelling at him. Screaming at him. Louder than he thought possible. His mind was screaming, his heart was bleeding, his eyes were streaming.

      “Please.” Penny whispered.

      He dropped the gun.

      “I'm sorry.” He was still crying. The voices subsided. Now just a chatter in the back of his mind, floating on a breeze.

“I'm sorry. Please, don't report me. If I get locked up my wife and son are goners. I'm just

trying to help them.”

      “I won't. Just leave. Burn that gun if possible. Don't come back.”

      “Okay.” He stumbled uneasily out the door, trying to quiet his sobbing less someone hear.

Penny sat down and cried. Loud at first but then it tapered away as she grew tired from the effort. But even the tiredness couldn't quell the fear. The lasting memory of the black void of the gun barrel staring straight at her. Balancing her life on knife point. Radiating cold shivers down her spine.

      I survived. She told herself. It's over, I'm alive. But even her safety couldn't hide the fact that there were so many that didn't