Life taken by a gunman.

"She was only sixteen," the news reporters on channel five say. "She had her whole life ahead of her." They put my picture on the screen and start talking about how I did in school, what I was like; then they start showing videos of me laughing, and getting awards. They break for a commercial and when they come back they start showing interviews of my parents and friends crying or talking about how great I was, but then they start talking about the gunman like she was a stranger, yet I knew her; they knew her too. She had long brown hair, and the bluest eyes you'd ever see. They put a picture of her on the screen and I guess no one told the reporters that I was the gunman and the victim because they just look around and don't say anything for a while. They break for another commercial but when they come back my picture is still up on the screen, but all they do is stare. One reporter starts to speak, "I'm sorry, we weren't expecting this. We thought she was killed by someone other than herself. We didn't know she was that bad, but I guess we weren't the only ones." Her voice breaks and she starts to cry. The man beside her looks at her and clears his throat, "Please excuse us, but this is such a surprise," he starts to look around the room. "She looked so happy. She looked okay." The room goes quiet and so do the reporters. The videos of me living were put on a loop and they won't go off until the segment is over, but that isn't scheduled for another hour. Everyone at the station starts to get up and walk around; the man goes to the producer and starts to yell at him about why he wasn't told anything while the woman starts to cry even harder. They break for a commercial and don't come on air for an hour after that, but when they come back, I'm not ever mentioned again and they act like nothing happened. My mom always said that I'd be on t.v. This was it.