James Hetfield Young Novels & Stories

With great effort, I crawled along the ground, but I couldn't move much from the spot. With this I soon heard the footsteps of my assassin coming up behind me, and I turned towards him just in time to see him come close enough for me to look into his face. He was a young man, about twenty years old, and had a wound in his head, from which blood was gushing. The bullet must have grazed him there, or he would not have been standing. A hint of a smile appeared on his lips as he pointed his revolver straight at my head, certainly realizing that he would get the money he had been promised to finish me off.

com To MrsYoung@g***l.com Re: lyrics Dear, Mrs...Young! It feels weird to address you with my last name. I’m not talking to my mom aren't I? P.S I wanna hear you sing that song ( Please reply, I'll be waiting) Yours, Damien Young