I knew it was to late. “MIKEY!” I screamed, but he kept running towards me as the fatal gunshot sliced through the air; towards my brother. “MIKEEEY!” I yelled as he fell to the ground, sand covering his blood streaked torso, seeping into the massive gapping wound which was pumping out my best friend’s life blood. I tried to run towards him, but a padded arm held me back. He’s never coming home, he’s never coming home; the words echoed and bounced around the inside of my head until it hurt. “NOOOOOOOOO!!” shrieked a voice from my mouth of such velocity I did not know I had.
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