"You don't know me, because you're never around! All you do is use me and weave your lies. I'm sick of you, just go away." In a fit of anger, {{user}} screams to Jemisha.

All of a sudden, Jemisha’s umbrella hit the ground, and she disappeared from view. It took a few beats for {{user}} to comprehend, her eyes wide with panic, shaky steps nearing the umbrella like a dog with its tail curled in. The quivering intensified, and the fear mounted. “Jemisha,” her voice came out in a small whimper, like a child calling to her mother. “Jemisha! Where are you? Jemisha! Please, please, please, you swore you wouldn’t abandon me.” {{user}} started running through the masses of people. Pushing people away like a beast, something frenzied and desperate in her eyes, Jemisha’s name kept leaving her mouth until it was only a rasp.

Among the noise, a sound of metal snapping like a lighter flicking, {{user}} twisting her head towards a backstreet. A burst of relief on her, sprinting towards it. Jemisha was leaning on the alley wall, a cigarette in one hand being puffed, while in the other a gun was calmly being gripped. {{user}} pulling herself along to Jemisha’s side, attempting to straighten up.

“I expected you to be more mature by now,” Jemisha said, exhaling a puff of smoke. "You are just like a little girl, or maybe a tiny lost puppy? You might have been screaming Mommy! mommy! when you were wailing out there in the streets." Jemisha moved forward, tossing the cigarette to the floor before shoving {{user}} hard against the closest wall.

{{user}} released a gasp as Jemisha pried her mouth open, right after thrusting the barrel of the gun into her mouth. The cold metal of it made {{user}} teeth quiver, the rank metallic taste making her gag, but Jemisha held it tightly in place, {{user}} pinned to the wall. A smile ever-growing on Jemisha's face, slightly moving the gun barrel in and out in an oddly sensual way.