Careful || Toy Soldiers

T E N

Emma had never felt such pain in her life.                               

Not even when her goldfish, Mr Swimmy, died, who happened to be her best friend at the time, had she ever felt like the world was gunna cave in and swallow her whole. This was Different. This was Joey. He wasn't a goldfish. He was her friend.

The call came Mid afternoon. Emma was talking to one man who seemed like he had some kind of say in the matter, trying to see if there was anyway they could make a deal and still go with the plan. He couldn't answer as a woman interrupted.

   "Sir, a kids been shot at the school."

Emma swore she felt like time stopped. It was only her, the Erie silence, and those same 8 words repeating over and over in her head.

"Sir, a kids been shot at the school."

Every part of her body burned. She wanted to know who it was more than she didn't. But she couldn't prepare herself for who it could be. Had Billy not made it back in time? Did someone else leave? Was Luis trying to prove a point? Who was it?

"Sir it was Albert Trotta's kid. Joey."

Joey.

Joey Trotta.

    The boy who wouldn't leave her side as the bastards invaded their school. Who let her hold his hands until she was sure permanent indents would etch his skin forever. Who taught her how to draw more than a stick figure. Who laughed at her jokes even though they were horrible. Who she had told to
be careful.

    The son of a mafia leader.

    The one with the wild plan to shoot all the terrorists with a machine gun.

    Joey Trotta.

    Her friend.

   Emma let out a horrendous noise. Not something anyone human could make. It came from her throat and put goosebumps on anyone by her. Her hands were shaking, her legs felt like they were gunna give out. she was drowning in something she couldn't see and was too weak to swim to the top. She felt like she would combust. She knew she was going to combust.

   "Where's Mr Parker? I- I have to find Mr Parker."

    Emma ran out of the tent, one foot after another, stumbling on rocks and bumping into people. She couldn't breathe. She was too far from the surface. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper.

   "Miss Reid? Are you all right?"

   She smiled. It was twisted, but it was there. "Yea I'm alright."

   "What's wrong?"

    The smile disappeared. "Sir, Joey's dead."

    Those words. Something she thought she would never have to say. Something she wished she'd never have to say. But here she was. Standing in front of the dean of Regis, a school that had been taken over by terrorists, terrorists who had just shot and killed her friend.

    Emma burst into sobs.

    She fell to the ground slowly. Her whole body shaking. She had reached the bottom. And now, there was no way she could ever break through to the top. She was done. The oxygen had left her body and was filling with water. Fuller and fuller and fuller. She could barely feel Mr Parker pull her into his chest.

   "shhh, just breathe, just breathe." He didn't say it would be okay. It wouldn't be okay. A kid was dead. How is anything related to that remotely okay?

    Emma let out a scream. She should have stayed. They should have made her stay. She could have stopped it. She could have stopped it.

    Could it be stopped?

    Could it have been another student?

    Emma cursed herself for wishing it would have been, One she didn't know. It shouldn't of been anyone. No one should be dead. Only Luis, and the hell he brought with him.

    It felt like hours had passed as they sat there. Emma crying into Mr Parkers chest and him patting her back, telling her to 'just breathe'. By the time someone found them Emma's voice was rubbed raw and only silent sobs left her body.

   "Mr Parker, they want you to go get the body."

    Emma jumped up, still crying, ready to say she wanted to go. But she knew it wouldn't work as she looked at Mr Parkers face. God knows what she would do if she saw his body. If she saw Luis.

    Maybe she'd end up like Joey. 'Maybe', she thought, 'maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing.'

    She dragged herself back to her tent. She was numb. She couldn't cry. She couldn't feel. She could hardly move.

    But she could think.

    As she sat down in that tent, she had only one thought in her mind.

    It fuelled her anger, made her unable to sleep with the plans forming their way in her head. It was the only thing that made her feel as if she was finally starting to float to the top.

     She was going to kill Luis. Even if it killed her in the process.

    This is for you Trotta, this is for you.

________
Hah.
Sorry.
C'mon we all knew that part of the movie was creeping up.
Again sorry.
Enjoy.
Kenn xx