▪︎The Letter▪︎
The stranger has scars and bruises on his face. The big scar on his left cheek stands out. He must have gotten it from breaking into people's houses at this time of the night.
"Who the f**k are you?"
I point the gun at his face as he lies on the ground, screaming in tremendous pain. His knee is bleeding profusely, the blood drenching his pants.
"So you are not going to talk?" I point the gun at the other knee. "Guess you want to be stuck in a wheelchair for life, huh?"
"No! Please don't!" He cries out. "Please don't shoot me!"
"Talk."
"My name is... I'm Rob."
"Rob, why do you want to kill me?"
"I... I don't want to kill you. I'm sorry! I just came here to... to rob! That's all!"
"You don't value your legs, eh?"
"I'm telling you the truth!" He cries. "I swear! No o
