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stylish jeans pants in a clothing store on the stands showcase with labels for the inscription

Ezra, Writer

“Don’t, too many people.” He says.

I run my hand along the line of cream-colored pants. I dismiss his wishes and take two pairs off the rack. I take them to the dressing room and get to work.

When I emerge from the room there is only one pair visible now.
“I know what I am doing,” I tell him with a small smile on my face.

We walk to the front sliding doors and go out quietly. While in the car I pull the pants out of my black vans bookbag. He gives me a look but says nothing.

“You’ve done worse.” I scold him. He throws his hands up surrendering sarcastically.

We drive to another store. A jewelry store. Leaving everything behind in the car we walk in.

“Hello, welcome to Pandora.”

We smile and continued to walk. I look up, checking, and so does he.

I go to the front counter, and he stays behind.

“Excuse me?” I speak. A short woman comes to my assistance instantly. I reach behind my back, metal hitting my fingertips.

“How many people are working today? I am going to need a lot of help.”

“Only me and two others.” She smiles.

“Thank you.” I walk away from the counter to him.

“Three.” I whisper. He nods.

“Everyone on the ground!” He yells.

I turn around, gun in hand but at my side. An employee reaches under the counter for the button.

“Don’t try it. It is disabled.”  He speaks. How does he do that?

“Get a bag and fill it up.” I say.

No one moves, I shoot into the ceiling. One person moves.

Once the bag becomes too heavy for the girl to carry, he takes it from her.

“Stay.” He says to them. I smile at him as he walks out. We get into the car and drive away.


Now at home, we go inside. He takes the bag, I the pants. Sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace we trade and share a kiss.

“Happy anniversary.”


In the morning I hear a loud thud. I jump out of bed and run to the closet. I run to the side of the bed and shake him.

“Thomas wake up.” I speak. Just then the door to the front of our house sounds like it is blown off.

“Police.” He scrambles out of bed to his feet and grabs the second gun.

“Stay behind me.” He says. I load my gun and hold it steady by my side. My fingers shake with anticipation.

We hear footsteps approaching and brace ourselves for the fight of our lives. The door springs open and he holds up his gun.

“Sir drop the gun.” The police officer says. The huge rifle in his hands is way too big for us to take on.

“There’s someone behind him!” A second officer yells. I stay put and do not move.

A shot rings out and I drop to the floor. A symphony of firing goes off and I lay in a ball on the ground.

When I open my eyes, I stare at the mess in front of me. Then I see it. Him. Thomas. He is lying on the ground and he is not moving. I move to him quickly and touch his face.

“Thomas?” I cry out, cradling his head in my hands.

He looks up at me and barely speaks.

“No matter what happens. Kill them all.”

“Sir step away from the body.” When Thomas takes his final breath, I drop him softly on the ground. Tears sting my eyes and I look up at the flashing lights on my face.

“Are you Gabriel Mathews?” One asks. I do not answer. But I do speak at some point.

“No. I’m your worst enemy.”