I should be afraid. I should feel fear - I don't. I am addicted to that adrenalin rush which bursts through me when I am in situations like that. Every inch of my skin starts to burn a little in the anticipation of getting hurt and it drives me crazy. It sounds like a sick sort of fetish but it really isn't; I am addicted to the danger. That few seconds where you think you may get hurt but you're not sure. Unpredictability in its most mouth watering form.

I wish I could pretend to be scared; I'd probably get in less trouble if I didn't enjoy it so much. I just don't believe she will actually pull the trigger on me. I'm not the kind of girl who gets shot. She hasn't the balls to kill me and yet, she hasn't the body to fuck me. She is pretty much a useless presence.

I am, however, ready for all of his drama to be over. It is beginning to bore me a little. "Will she? Won't she?", seriously, just fuck off. Getting hot from the adrenalin rush a gun can induce is exciting and all but it just isn't worth the lying and constant shit that goes with having to watch my back all day every day. I have more important things to do with my time.