103. LUTHER I find myself frozen for a second, and my brain goes blank. That's a real pistol in Bernice's hand, I can tell because I've seen a gun before, and this is not any less traumatizing. "Bernice, put that gun away," my voice shakes. "Didn't you hear what I said, fag?" She moves the tip of the gun closer to me. "Get back into the car, and shut my fucking door!" I have to shut it, even though I want nothing more than to escape from Bernice. She has a gun, and from the look in her eyes, she hundred percent intends to pull the trigger. "Please, Bernice," I shut my eyes, hearing my own uneven breathing. "I– I don't want any trouble, I want to go home." "And then I will have to do this all by myself?" She huffs. "No way." The car is parked by the side of the road, but from the type of car and the tinted window, one won't guess that there is a gun-slinging psychopath holding someone hostage inside. How does Bernice manage to stay so calm? How can she cry in my arms, confi
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