I dodge down an alley, hoping the darkness down here will hide me for a while. I duck behind a stray cardboard box, poking my head out to look at the empty street.
Listening intently, I only relax when the only noise I hear is my own rapid, shaky breathing.
I lean back against the cold brick wall, and relive what I had just witnessed.
"No, Phoebe! Get out!" My mom screams, the gun pressed against her temple.
The gunman smirks at me. "Come here, little girl. Watch the circle of life!" He says, cackling as he pulls the trigger.
"No!" I shriek in my little eight year old voice. Backing away, and in two seconds, I'm out the door, running as fast as my little legs will carry me.
I shake my head, trying to wash away the memory. It doesn't work, however, and I start crying. My little self shaking with my racking, nonstop sobbing.
The wind picks up now, causing me to shiver, chills running down my spine. I bury my face in my arms, trying to bundle up against the cold.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps coming towards me. I immediately panic, thinking that the gunman has found me. The feet stop in front of me.
"Hey, are you okay?" The voice of a young boy asks me, leaning closer towards me.
I lift my head from my arms, and find myself looking into the face of an innocent ten year old. His dark eyes are full of concern, searching my tear stained face.
I back away from him the best I can, pressing myself against the wall, trying to make myself disappear almost.
"Shh, I'm not going to hurt you." The boy says, holding his hands up, as if surrendering in battle.
I don't move, still pressing myself against the wall, the bricks digging into my back and shoulders.
"My name is Adam. McQuaid." He says, lowering his hands a bit.
I look at him, my eyes looking him over quickly. His dark brown hair is messy, curls covering his creased forehead. The brown eyes continue to watch me, keeping a close watch.
"I'm just here to help you, okay?" Adam whispers, breaking the silence. "What's your name?"
"P-Phoebe." I stutter, my voice breaking.
:I like that name." Adam says, smiling innocently. "Very original."
I can't help but smile a bit, as I slide down the wall, my muscles relaxing.
"What's wrong?" Adam asks, sitting down in front of me, resting on the cold concrete.
I explain everything that happened, starting to cry again as I tell my tale.
By the time I'm done, Adam has moved next to me, his arm around me, my head leaning against his shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears.
"I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am." Adam whispers, rubbing my shoulder softly.
"I don't know what to do now." I cry, burying my face in my hands.
