Prologue

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The house  was buzzling with people, excited chatter and the occasional argument seizing the air, leaving not a dull moment. In the center of it all, a boy, newly 17, sits at the middle of a table where people sang happy birthday to him. As the boy blew out his candles, he, naturally, would expect a gift after sharing cake. But he wasn't expecting  a gift so deadly, nor so horrifying.

Though the window behind him, where sun shined on his back, flew out a bullet. With perfect precision, as if months were spent planning this,  lodged itself into his neck. He sputters, coughing as blood spews onto his cake. Panicking,  his mother rushed over to him, yelling his name but he can't hear it over the ringing in his ears. Before he passes out -passes away, even- he sees, his mom pick up the phone. 

His sight fades to black.

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