The gun rested so easily, too easily against Scott's head. I stumbled forward, my head swarming. I was nauseous, disorientated, and struggling to stand. The world seemed to spin, swaying, as if turning and skewing to the side. Seeing Jake here, I should have felt relieved, should have realized I was safe.

But I wasn't.

I didn't know why, but I knew I wasn't. I was so far from safe. Those eyes of his raged as I had never seen before, a deep intensity which burned with wild fixation. Jake didn't look like Jake anymore. He looked as though he had become a completely different person. Yet standing before me was the same cookie-cutter boy.

"Stay the fuck back," he growled, scowling at me with deep resentment. A hatred. Whatever had happened today, this wasn't Jake anymore. It couldn't be. There was no sense of humanity, kindness, or even logic. It appeared to be just pure emotion.

"Jake?" I asked, taking another step forward, but I stopped. The gun which pressed against Scott's forehead made my hands shake and feet freeze. What was he doing? Was I going insane? Hallucinating perhaps? The smell of gasoline and citrus filled the air, an intense scent which made me feel ill. I shut my eyes for a moment, the dizziness clouding my vision.

"What the fuck did I say, Rebecca?!" Jake yelled, so loudly and so bluntly that I no longer recognized his face. In every way he was the same. The same hair, the same eyes. But he wasn't. He had become so different that even his appearance seemed to alter. He commanded the space, holding himself with a sense of superiority. His shoulders rested back, so easily conforming to this role.

"Put your gun down!" I tried to sound strong, and given any normal case, perhaps I may have come across as that. But my voice echoed, dissipating around the space until it seemed as though I had said nothing at all. He kept his eyes fixed on me, looking down at me like prey. I faltered, stumbling back, dizziness drowning my consciousness.

"What are you doing?" Scott asked, his eyes darting rapidly between Jake and I. I placed my hand against the wall, trying to ground myself. My awareness seemed to falter for a moment, a deep blackness, before I steadied myself again. Scott continued, slightly panicked, "We're not breaking the law. Do I even need to begin with-"

"SHUT IT!" Jake bellowed, pressing the gun harder against his skin. Scott looked to me, alarmed. I had to do something, anything. Jake's finger rested against the trigger, white plastic gloves only moments away from ending it. He was actually going to do it, actually going to push the trigger, "Say goodbye you pathetic-"

Using my hand which I had propped myself against the wall with, I pushed myself forward. A deep rumble of thunder echoing through the alleyway. I was struggling to breathe, struggling to focus, but I couldn't just watch. I couldn't let him do that. Lunging forward, I grabbed onto his arm.

BANG

The gunshot rang in my ears, my head already swirling. My heart racing, adrenaline on overdrive, every sense heightened with the world on hyperdrive with no signs of stopping. It was loud, so much louder than just hearing it echo through alleyways, so much louder than hearing it in my dream. The deep booming, resonating through every bone in my body until it seemed as though I would never hear sound again. The drifting of an acrid smell carried through the air, before I was hit with the onset of trepidation.

Was Scott okay? Where was he? Horror lurked in my mind, vision covered in shadows and blurs.

But I didn't have time to think, as before I could even open my eyes, I was grabbed by my hair and slammed against the wall. A rough hand yanking the roots of my hair, lifting me up. I screamed, I couldn't help it. Each strand felt as though it was on fire, slowly being pulled from the scalp. My feet struggled to find gripping as I pushed back with trembling hands.

Through tear filled eyes, I stared at him. Jake. How could this be the same boy? This wasn't, couldn't be the same boy who cried over a kid dying in his arms. It couldn't be the same boy who I had thrown paper planes with over the dark night of the city. It seemed that boy was entirely gone.

His breath was hot, the overwhelming smell of gasoline and citrus even stronger than before. I was reminded of that night, how intense it had been. How strong he had been. And now he had me against the wall by my hair. As I tried to open my eyes, I was hit with the pain from my scalp as hairs slowly were pulled out, tears swarming my eyes. When I managed to see him, properly, I couldn't help but feel sick to my bone.

His eyes shifted, tracing over my face as if trying to look for something. Not as though he was looking carefully, tracing every inch and reading me, but instead frantic as if he were running out of time. It seemed off, however it was impossible to think straight. I let out another cry as it felt like my skin pulling from my skull

"Please..." I pleaded, sharp pain through my scalp and tears swarming my eyes. The heavy downpour of rain continued, the stone wall against my back cold and grating. It was only as he pushed me harder against it that I realized what was underneath my chin, pushing against my throat as I struggled to breathe.

The gun.

"Know your fucking place!" he bellowed, an anger burning in those cookie cutter eyes. The barrel of the gun continued to rest against my skin, pressing the cold metal deeper, "Don't speak unless spoken to. Understood?!"

"You're hurting her!" Scott cried, his voice completely different than I had heard before. Instead of calm and collected, it was frantic, panicked. But he was alive. And it was all I could manage to focus on. That when I had lunged forward, I had in effect saved him.

"I know, why do you think I did it?" Jake growled, each word a hot breath against my skin, the ball of hair in his hand gripping tighter, twisting the strands further. I tried to push away, but it was as though every movement was held back by an unknown force. He was too strong.

"She's your partner, are you mad? We've done nothing wrong!" Scott continued. I tried to open my eyes to look at him, tell him to run or just to simply know that he was alive. But when I did, my vision was blocked by the towering figure with a gun to my neck. The silhouette unfamiliar in every regard.

But then, the hand which had grasped my hair let me go, the gun retracting from underneath my chin. It was as though my whole body had been held up by strings, a marionette, and now with the strings cut, I crumbled against the floor. I choked on sobs, the rain continuing it's downpour.

"You've taken everything from me!" Jake's voice had moved from angry to distraught, a sadness and violence colliding together into a scream which echoed around the alleyway. My head was throbbing, my whole body shaking as I dared to open my eyes to look up.

Scott was alive, but as my eyes adjusted I saw the red streak which dashed his shoulder from a bullet, the sleeve torn open as blood trickled down his arm. Jake was only a shadow, but the way he held himself was far from anything he had been before.

"What?" Scott stammered, glancing to me as he held his arm, blood seeping through his fingers. It was now that I saw Jake was once again pressing the gun against Scott's forehead. The whole world felt off, reality disconnected from truth as I watched the scene unfold. I wasn't safe, and I couldn't be further from it.

"You've taken them both!" Jake wailed, his arm trembling as he held the gun against him. I tried to move forward, but every time I did I was caught in a wave of nausea, the world spinning as I struggled to pull myself up against the wall. I was helpless.

"The... girls?" Scott asked, watching with a confused glance as I tried to stand. I pulled one foot up, but as I pulled the other, I skidded, my knee colliding with the slippery concrete. Scott looked back to Jake, still holding his bleeding shoulder, "They're their own people. You can have Jessie, she despises me,"

I held onto the wall, pulling myself up again. My feet shook, threatening to give way. But I couldn't just give up here. I leaned against the smooth stone, using it as a to prop myself up until I was fully standing once more. But as I looked back, I saw the gun had once more returned to me.

"For good reason," Jake snarled, the barrel of the gun staring me down once again. But he didn't look at me, didn't glance at me. His eyes remained fixed on Scott, "Why do you ruin everything?"

"I- what are you on about?" Scott was frantic, taking a step closer. As he did, Jake's finger curled around the trigger. He shook his head, a defeat filling his eyes. Any second Jake could pull the trigger and I would be dead. Hesitantly, Scott continued, "Let us go Jake,"

"No," The sternness in Jake's voice was chilling. The emotions he had seemed to switch without reason. I was frozen, petrified of the gun which was pointed at me. Mere moments from death. Was he going to just shoot me like that? I was quivering, struggling to stay standing as Jake continued, "Why would I just let you win?"

"Win?" I couldn't help as the words came out of my mouth. I turned to face him fully, my back pressed against the wall for stability, but feeling so angry, so upset. I was fuming, staring down the barrel of the gun at the boy who was supposed to be made for me. I continued, "What is there to win? Jake? Are you hearing yourself?"

"I believe-" Scott began to speak, but the moment he did, Jake pressed the gun right up against my forehead, the finger still held so effortlessly against the trigger. One movement, that's all it would have to be and I would be gone. The barrell was cold, a deep terror brewing at the realization at what was happening. Scott continued slowly, "Please, think carefully,"

"Why?" Jake said harshly. He glanced to me, not with anger, but as though I was an object, one which you couldn't decide whether to keep or to discard. An item. As he did so, he frowned, before returning his cold eyes onto Scott, "You want Rebecca right?"

What the fuck was going on? This couldn't be Jake, but it was. It was Jake who currently held a gun to me. Scott glanced at me, a hesitance in his eyes as the gun pressed deeper into my forehead. The question was so strange, every question was.

But the question was an answer between me living and a bullet being driven through my head.

"Yes," Scott said slowly, carefully. He was watching every movement Jake made, analyzing it. Jake smiled, but not a smile of happiness. A bitter smile, one which you make when everything is falling but you pretend to smile anyway. A sick grin, before slowly, the gun returned to point at Scott. There was only so much relief I could feel.

"Why did you have to make things so fucking complicated!" Jake shrieked, his emotions amplified, echoing around every wall. I didn't know what he was saying, didn't know what he meant, but I was terrified. Terrified not only of what would happen to me, but the idea of losing Scott. Jake howled, "Why couldn't you have just been happy with Jessie! Why couldn't you just be normal! You ruin everything!"

"I ruin everything?" It seemed as though the gun against his head no longer mattered, an anger erupting from Scott. He was shaking, blood soaking his clothes as he tried to keep his voice clear. He no longer held the calm collection I had so often seen in him. What was he doing? I wanted to say something, do something, but I felt powerless. Scott shook his head, his words holding a deep and heartbroken tone, angry and bitter, "Have you seen yourself lately? This was all because of what you two did!"

"And Rebecca?" Jake added, as if it were no more than a common phrase. I didn't feel like a person anymore; merely something which people treated as filth. The way he seemed to talk about me was as though I was nothing more than an object.

"What about her?" Scott challenged, holding himself higher. Was he unaware of the gun to his forehead? Against Jake, he was helpless. Yet he continued to hold his ground, unwavering from determination. He didn't look at me, neither of them did.

It seemed I wasn't even there.

"Have you manipulated her too?" Jake demanded, pressing the gun against Scott, causing him to step back. Jake towered over him, taking a step forward to match the retreat. He lowered his voice, no longer filled with emotion, but a calm violence which seemed far scarier than anything else, "Does she even know how much of a piece of shit you are?"

The finger curled around the trigger. He was going to shoot him. As blood continued to soak his clothes, Scott stood there. Fueling the burning fire.

I realized now what had happened. Scott, it seemed, had figured it out much quicker than I had. It was inevitable, and given Jake's state, it would be the only thing to do. As Scott looked at me, it made it even clearer.

Jake was intent on killing one of us, and Scott had already decided who.

But this couldn't be it. Not now, not when things had finally started to make sense. I had met someone who not only understood me, but believed in me. Told me when I was doing something wrong, but always seemed to be by my side. And right now, he was going to take a bullet for me.

And it only seemed right that I would do the same for him.

Using all my remaining energy, I pushed myself off the wall, stumbling forward. I wasn't going to let Scott leave me like that. I couldn't just allow him to disappear like Marie did. I was going to do everything to keep him, even if it meant the end.

BANG

The gunshot was loud, a piercing sound which echoed through my brain. It took me a moment to remain connected to reality, remembering the world around me. A ringing so intense it was impossible to think of anything. But when reality started to resume, I felt it. At first, it was numb, but within a few seconds, it hit me.

I collapsed to the ground, the puddle I landed in soaking me. But it was the least of my concerns. I let out a scream as a pain filtered through my body like a fire. I grasped to my abdomen, crying in agony. I could hardly hear my own muffled wailing. Every sense was overwhelmed by pure pain I was in.

But I had done it.

"What are you doing?" Scott was panicked, I could hear it. But he was alive. I tried to focus on that fact, the knowledge that I had actually done something.

The world seemed to shift, growing fainter, blood trickling between my fingers where the bullet had hit me. I used my sleeve to muffle my sobs, the pain so intense I wondered how I was even still alive.

Was I even still alive?

"Isn't it obvious?" Jake said calmly, unaffected by what he had just done. Seeming to not even notice the bullet that had collided with my side. He readjusted the gun, and when I looked up, I saw the same twisted smile as before, his eyes fixed on Scott, "I'm going to shoot you,"

"Why?" Scott asked, looking down at me. I couldn't tell what it was, but he seemed different, cold again. It was as though the past week I had known him was gone. He had returned to the Scott Preston I had first met, holding himself higher as he stared at Jake like he was nothing

"Because you took her from me," Jake cried, tears trailing down his face as he trembled. He had returned the gun to him now. I tried to stand, but couldn't. Each time I moved my whole body would crumble in pain. It was a deep immense misery in every part of my body that seemed to scream. Jake continued, his words a strained cry, "If you didn't exist things would be better,"

There was a silence, broken only by me crying out in pain. I wondered how I was still breathing, whether this was the end. Looking down, I saw my own reflection staring back at me.

I didn't recognize the girl. The puddle being infected by blood spilling from my open wound. She was frightened, curled over and helpless. Her hair a mess, and her whole existence merely an object for others to play with.

Was this who I had become?

When I looked up, Scott didn't look at me, not so much as a glance. It was as though I wasn't here. The world around me seemed to freeze, like statues in a museum. Perhaps this was it, the end. Before, finally, Scott spoke.

"You're right..." He said slowly. I shook my head, knowing what it meant, knowing what he was going to say and knowing where it would lead. He couldn't be doing this. I tried to say something, but it merely came in muffed whimpers. I was just the hopeless girl in the reflection after all. Without another look at me, he said, "Just... don't hurt her anymore, alright?"

Scott, what were you doing? This couldn't be it. Scott hadn't just said that. But as Jake took another step forward, it seemed it was real. I couldn't do anything as Jake laughed, breaking into tears once more. It was manic, emotional and pained. Forcefully, he pressed gun flush against his forehead.

I tried to move forward, stumbling over the wet pavement. Through teary eyes I watched as his finger curled around the trigger again. I wanted to help, wanted to get up. I tried to scream, dizzy and in agony. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be happening.

BANG

I shut my eyes, the sound of the gunshot echoing around the alleyway. I couldn't help him. I couldn't save him. He was gone. I tried to stand once more, my ears ringing and chest bleeding as I desperately tried to stand on my feet. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't scream or even cry.

What had he done?

"What the fuck?" It was Jake's words which seemed to pull me out of this shock, dragging me into reality once again. When I looked up, it wasn't Scott that I saw. Instead, someone had stood in front of him, a bullet through his chest as he towered over Jake.

It was Charlie.