“First, pick up the gun. It’s not loaded. Feel it in your hand. See how you do with that.”
I run a finger over the handle. It’s cold even though it’s been sitting in the sun, and shivers race up my arm.
Taking a deep breath, I wrap my hand around it, lifting it from the gun rest. It’s heavier than I thought it would be. My fingers fit perfectly in the grooves on the handle.
“This is a Glock. It’s small and there’s hardly any recoil, so I thought it would be an easy gun to start with. Let’s practice holding it the right way and aiming before putting any bullets in.”
Ethan moves behind me. His hands move on top of mine and he brings them up, pointing the gun at the targets in front of us. He repositions my hands until the right one is holding the gun, my pointer finger on the trigger.
“You fire a gun with the same hand you write with, so for you that’s your right hand. Your left hand will help support the gun like this,” he says, and positions my left hand around the underside of the gun.
Ethan’s body surrounds me completely. His arms line up with mine, his chest and legs mold against me. As nauseating as it feels to have this gun in my hand, I can’t help but feel safe. It is a strange sensation.
“How do you feel?” Ethan asks.
“Scared but not scared. I know nothing bad will happen while you’re here with me.”
“Do you want me to step away? Let you hold it on your own?”
I’m terrified for him to let go of me. I’m not sure my body will support itself once his moves. But then I think of the journal—and Thomas. He took it from me—I assume for the secrets he thought might be written in it—and then inexplicably gave it back. What reason would he have to bother me once he had the ledgers? I have no idea, and that scares me more than this gun.
“Yes. Let me try it on my own.” My voice sounds shaky, but I can’t help it.
Ethan peels his body away from mine and it’s agonizing, like slowly pulling off a Band-Aid.
I stand on my own, still aiming the gun at the target, and try to control my trembling limbs. I concentrate on that pit of fear in my belly. It churns and spins and makes me dizzy so I push it down. It will not control me. I will not live in fear. I will not lose this new life I have.
“Show me how to put the bullets in.”
Rules for disappearing
by Witness Protection prisoner #18A7R04M:
Do not go to parties or any other non–school-related activity….
New rule by Anna Boyd:
When you finally get the life you want, enjoy every moment of it, or what’s the point?
celebrating. Not only did I load the gun but I fired it. I could only handle pulling the trigger once, but it was a huge victory nevertheless.
It’s the first time I’ve been back to Will’s house since the night of the Mardi Gras dance after-party. Will is Ethan’s best friend, who also happens to be dating my best friend, Catherine.
It’s us plus another couple and we’re hanging out around his pool, listening to music.
Normal. Just another normal night in this normal life.
Catherine drops down beside me. “So do I call you Annie Oakley now?”
I giggle and answer, “Yes. Consider me armed and dangerous.”
Will and Catherine were also there the night I passed out, so I didn’t hesitate telling them about conquering that fear this morning.
Catherine leans close and whispers, “Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything but you’re carrying around luggage again. You haven’t let that bag out of your sight all week. Something I should know about?”
Oh, crap. She noticed, too. And just as the journal that’s stashed safely in my bag pops in my head, I reach down to feel for the hard edges.
“It’s just my purse. You carry yours everywhere, too.”
