The Last One
As hard as she tried, she couldn�t stop the crying she did.
It wasn�t her fault; she knew that, but thanks to her,
he was dead.
The night seemed like it would carry like all others.
In, get the stuff, out, done.
Wrong.
On a night planned to be like all others, her counter died, at the hands of a cop.
He fired as the two turned to them.
They knew the gig was up, there was no sense in running, was there?
The shot came from that one flinchy cop, the one the two hated so much.
He had killed a third in their group.
Now she sat in a jail cell.
The last of three.
All alone.
His scream came back to her.
He was dead on the scene, and she couldn�t even try to run.
The shock was too much for her, her friend�dead.
One of the other cops grabbed her as she looked up from what used to be a living creature.
She couldn�t even speak.
At seventeen she had witnessed two deaths�
�by the same cop!
Was this even right?!
Who knew?
She did.
She knew the cop would get off free like last time.
His excuse?
He was doing his job.
Right? The two had turned to them.
They knew it was over.
How come the cops didn�t?
They didn�t think, like usual.
Nothing new, cops never seemed to think before they act.
Shoot first, shoot sa�more, ask questions later.
Their philosophy on life.
Thanks to that �rule�, her best friends were dead.
Wiping her tears, she looked up to the light of the cell.
Only to realize, it wasn�t the light of the cell.
Now she could feel the pain.
She opened her eyes and something hit her.
A real shock.
One that took her a minute to comprehend.
She had died, not her two friends.
Keller