Close

Bang. I look up in horror

at the source of the noise.

A bullet speeding towards me

as fast as light.

 

Everything is in slow motion

I can see clearly, the

grotty pieces of metal

which has been been sparkling, shimmering in the light which has gone.

 

I ready myself, prepare for the burn

on my chest.

It doesn't come.

I look up.

 

Pain fills me.

She's gone. 

Untitled


By Zoe

View more poems from Hornsby Girls High School, 2013