"Honestly," my father began, "I know the deal. I tell you everything, you shoot him anyway. I know how you work."
'Boris' pointed the gun at my father now, as 'Natasha' pointed another gun at me.
"Why then do I just not shoot both of you?"
I was getting really tired of having all these guns pointed at my head. Frankly, right about now, as an apathetic teenagers, I didn't care whether I lived or died. I mumled. "I wish we were the ones with the guns, so you guys would know what it feels like to be bullied."
The world spun around me, aparently I had been hiding the rock well...on my person. I could feel cold steel in my hands and a weight on my chest. I had become the woman I had dubbed 'Natasha.'
