• I was going to die. I was sure of it. There I was curled up on the ground ,and writhing in agony. I never thought I'd have to feel it again after that, only.....I've had to feel it lots more.
    My mother stood in the door way watching her 8 year old boy dying. She was afraid, and there was no one and nothing which could stop it, if there had been I would have got them or done it with out a moments thought. If only I could go and tell her now what was happening.
    "Mama PLEASE HELP ME!" I screamed, thrusting my hands out to reach her.
    "It'll be ok Billie, promise me." She lied, nodding to my father who had up till now been reading the bible out loud and holding a cross infront of both of them. My muscles rippled, and my skin was being stretched....ripped away from my body. Click. It was the sound of my Fathers rifle being loaded, I didn't have to be told what was going to happen next as the cool metal slowly was being pushed against my wrist. It was the end. Nothing more, three letters that slowly spelt out death, like a cold wind on a stormy day. I was a lone, and in the darkness.