He was a killer. I popped the quarter into the soda vending machine. I hear the can of Coke roll down. I slide my hand into the slot that had big black bold letters that say ''PUSH''. I grab the cold sweaty can. I bend my index finger to pull open the tab on the drink, but before I could I look at my index finger, that held a gold ring. I think of this exact moment when I was in high school. Before all of this happened. I walk the few centimeters back to the cold metal circular table, with the exact same seats as the tabletop, and I sit down. ''How the hell did this happen.''