Melanie's POV

I stood in silence. Not out of shock, but I was thinking. Dads old pistol never worked, regardless if it had bullets or not. It was an antique, hints the word old. I looked at her, she wanted an answer. So I did my best to make this sound as simple as possible. 

"No" I said bluntly 

"Then I won't" she threw the pistol on my bed and I looked at it 

"I expected you to grab it quickly or, rip it away from me" Winnie added

"The pistol never worked Winnie" I took the pistol and tried the trigger, it wouldn't budge 

"See? Stiff as a board" I examined the pistol and she looked at me funny 

"So does that mean what you said was a lie, in spite of myself" She looked irritated and I sighed 

"Nobody is ever ready to die, if your life is taken in your own hands then what's the point? Nobody's is big enough to support a life, and I know you'd never do it" I threw the gun back on my bed and sat at my desk, slipping my glasses on and continuing to draw 

"So I was right, you wouldn't care if I was dead" She stressed 

"I never said that" I argued 

"Then tell me, put aside hard shelled Melanie and stop putting your ego first" She said sharply, I stopped and put my pencil down then leaned back in my chair 

"I would care if you died, if you shot yourself I'd care" I said, facing my desk still 

"Are you a genuine ass" She scowled, I chuckled and shrugged 

"I know" I smiled 

"What's wrong with you Melanie?" She asked 

"Lots of stuff" I went back to drawing and she walked up, snatching my drawing book from my hands and running down the stairs 

"Winnie!" I yelled in anger, chasing her down the stairs. 

Written by Hannah