As I held the cold silver stainless steel knife to his throat I felt no pity, no remorse, just good Ole fashioned Anger. I pictured in my mind me cutting Justin's jugular letting him bleed out until he died right there at James dope man's houses driveway. What was only a minute or 2 felt like fucking lifetime. I remember seeing a blue Giant dumpster that people rent while they are making home improvements, it was only a few feet away. “If I kill him, I'm going to have to just throw him in the dumpster, but how long before the cops come genius?” I thought to myself. The cold blade on his throat so hard I could feel his pulse through my hand. I starred into his blue eyes hoping to see a mad man but nobody was home. I don't think he even realized how close he was to death. I had my worries.. “Even if you manage to kill him, someone will trace it back to the drug dealer and James and then to me” I began to realize this was going to be difficult. “What if they revive him and he lives or lives long enough to give the police my name? What then?” I thought. Justin's family was sitting on stacks of money. They were millionaires. “Better pack a bag if I do, because they will want justice, and what the fuck is taking James so long?” “Just kill him, get it over with you will be making the world a better place” I was seriously at odds between the Angel and Devil on my shoulders...

Things weren't always like this. Justin and I were usually"cool" believe it or not and I used to drive him home after school he always gave me gas money. He never was quite right in the head after what happened in grade school. I truly believe had those course of events not happened, I wouldn't be telling this story today.