You Pulled My Trigger!

They all thought I was joking, laughing as I sat back arms folded across my chest in a manner that told them I was not amused. I could feel my facial expression become one of stone, anger slowly setting in.

How could they think I was joking, did the pen knife in my pocket not give them enough proof to how serious I actually was? Then again, it was only I who knew that it was there. Clutching their stomachs in heavy laughter still I growled.

“Syn, you could’t even hurt a fly!”

“Not even a fly, she’s not quick enough!”

My friends burst out into another fit of breathless laughter at the last comment. I began to get really annoyed. They never took me seriously always cracking jokes about how my name was far from anything that I was.

Born Synyster Amy Williams I was all but Sinister in manner. I was the most polite of all those sat around me, most modest and most caring. I was the shoulder to cry on, never the one to take the fight whilst someone else comforted the one hurt. No, instead I was a human tissue that people turned to when ever they needed to cry, because they knew I could cheer them up.

If you asked anyone in our small town, everyone who knew me they’d tell you I was an angel, always helpful and ever so kind.

So why did I carry a pen knife in the deep pocket of my bondage trousers? Who knows? Maybe it was for the pure fact that like a bottle filled with a fizzy beverage, the more you shake it the more the pressure builds until you come to open the bottles and it practically explodes. I was that bottle and for too long my friends had been cracking jokes about my name, my nature and my condition.

Yes, I have a condition. Well, I don’t call it much of a condition but a state of mind. There is no explaining my situation really for what is there to explain? I am a paranoid, simple as.

For me, walking the street is a challenge I face almost every day. Almost being for the pure fact that I avoid going out at any cost, only actually stepping out of the house to join my mother in her daily shop and to go to school.

I can’t help but be suspicious and fear everything. I still find it confusing as to why it’s so funny to my friends that walking to the bus stop has me shaking and sweating, checking every alley and turn on my way there and back. Then again its human nature, we find some sort of strange amusement in other people’s misery.

“Just drop it Syn, okay. No matter what you say, there is no way you would ever do it.”

“Nope, she’d be too scared that her arm would fall off in mid air as she goes to punch you!” She laughed once again, she being my supposed best friend, Emma who had known me since the beginning of primary school and before high school was the most understanding person that someone could ask for but hormones and the pressure of image in high school changed all of that.
Of course she was still my best friend but one more the convenience of having someone to label as hers, to look better as she stood next to a sniveling wreck. Yep, Emma used me for her own personal gain. She was only ever caring and understanding when she saw that it would credit her in someway.

Why I stuck around with her and the masses of friends she dragged with her, I don’t know. I guess it’s because I spent so long holding on to her friendship, I blocked out any other offers of friendships from other people, leaving me friendless and Emma knew it. She knew that without her I’d be alone and played on it when it suited her best.

The other one that laughed was Jamie, her ex twice removed. No doubt she’d be back with him again soon anyway. Along with being a manipulative bitch, Emma was also the epitome of Promiscuous. Every two weeks she’d be hanging off of the arm of another guy, leaving behind a trail of the heart of the last guy she demolished and tainted, leaving him for ruin.

She was beautiful, oh yes typical prom queen beautiful and again…she knew it. Emma knew a lot of things, just not when it came to academics. That was the only factor in our friendship in which I over powered her and despite my angelic nature I fight fire with fire. If she thought it appropriate to play on my weaknesses I would do the same making her beg and plead for my help. Deep inside it gave me a sickening pleasure to watch her squirm.

So, as I explained before about the bottle, today they were pushing it, the bottle top so close to bursting into flames from all of the pressure stocked tight behind it.

“Aw man, Syn…You make me laugh!” Jamie chuckled, finally catching his breath, the dark haired boy wiping his eyes free from tears.

Just seeing the cheerful smirk on his face made my blood boil so much that I began to scare myself. Never before in my life have I felt such anger, the emotion burning deep red behind my eyes, slowly seeping through my pores. The tear of sweat trickling over my brow I could feel the heat of my anger burning my skin in the trail it left behind.

“Wow, Syn….you’ve gone red, mega red!!” Emma giggled as she looked to me, her shrill of a laugh ringing through my ears.
Like a trigger on a gun, her laughter was like the finger suddenly pulling it setting off a large bang.

“Find it funny do you!!? Does my misfortune come as some sort of amusement to you?” With each word my voice became horse and loud. I stood and jumped the four steps over to her my delicate hands grasping tightly at her throat, her windpipe resting beneath the pads of my thumbs.

Her blue eyes wide, she looked on at me in fear whilst the rest of them tried to prise me away from the pathetic soul beneath me.

Deep in anger I felt all sense of control leave me, watching as I strangled the girl whose life lay in my hands, my hands that were showing no sign of loosening.

Anger no longer shone red as white flashes crashed in my mind. Somewhere in my mind I felt it scream for me to stop but the crashed were loud, drowning out all rationality.

“Syn, let go!!” Jamie called out, desperation and fear in his voice.

I growled, the manic sound dripping from my lips, my teeth bared in dangerous anger.

“Don’t think it’s funny now, do you!? Now who is the weak one huh?” I screamed, Emma struggling to break free from my grasp.

That was it I was gone. Past the point of no return as I felt one of my hands let go. Reaching deep in my pocket for my trusted friend, the cool metal of the deadly weapon cooling my skin and giving me the sense of power I had searched for, for so long.

In a surge of rage I threw her fragile body across the room, my moves as quick as the throw, straddling her waist as I pulled out the knife. A simple flick of the wrist and I heard the satisfying sound of the blade coming into view, clicking into place ready for use.

“Syn!! No!” Jamie and those around shouted with panic, Emma looking up at me, tears lacing her now innocent eyes.

“That’s it cry, See how it feels!” I chuckled, my lips now a slit of pure madness upon my face set in a wicked smile.

As I watched her writhe my whole life passed before me eyes, all the fear and torment, fake smiles and tears. Blinking once it was like Synyster was me, the deep dark emotion lining every fibre of my being. The innocent little girl that was once me, standing beside me watching as this animal took over.

In a blind flash of rage I felt my arm raise high only to come down just as fast, feeling the blade penetrate her pure tanned skin, the sound of the ripping flesh music to my ears.

Out of control and out of sound mind, the knife continued to stab into the small, delicate frame that was trapped beneath me, blood staining her shirt, her eyes glazed in pain and her mouth surrounded by the scarlet red liquid that she had coughed up in reaction to the deep cut that stabbed deep into her gut. Each stab became my revenge for each time she belittled me, made me out to be a weak and pathetic girl, and used me as a pawn in her game of power!

Now it was my turn, my turn to shine as the very blade I was blessed with by my uncle who had gifted me with the weapon on his death bed. ‘Keep it with you; you never know when you might need it.’

His words rang through my head as I chuckled. “How ironic!?” I thought to myself as I took a moment to breath, the whole world around me coming to a stop as I did. My chest rising and falling, I grinned and bent down low, my lips splattered with her blood, gracing her lobe.

“Goodnight Emmie, Sleep well.”

With those final four words whispered into her ear I sat up straight and looked to her face, her eyes looking right into mine as she clung on for dear life. Ripping her hands from me I brought the blade swiftly across her wind pipe, feeling it slice deep into her skin, cutting her off mid breath as her eyes widened once more before going stone cold dead.

Breathless I watched in a sickening awe at the bloody and torn body beneath me.

Shaking my head I stood up, legs shaking from lack of use. Steadying myself I stepped to Jamie who shook with fear. Bringing the blade to his chest
I chuckled in amusement as he flinched only to look on in confusion as I simply wiped it clean on his shirt.

Pocketing the weapon, passed down to me from my dear dying uncle, I looked around me, feeling no remorse for what I had done, for what had become of me.