Gunfire rattled through the tranquillity, shattering like the bones he trod on to get this far

He laughed a little, because he heard them squeak and squawk when he stamped their life away

He pumps the shells out of his rifle, seeking any pray that is unlucky enough to find him

He quiets down, and sneaks on the brown autumn leaves while they crunch

He finds what he's looking for, he sees her stand tall and proud and happy

He readies his gun, steadily aiming at her

Her skin is a rough brown and her orange hair is falling out, and covers the floor like a carpet

He laughs a little while he pulls the trigger, sending a few bullets into her thick skin

Her bark breaks and there's a hole, the bullet is stuck inside of her

And he chuckles while inspecting what he's done, and he thinks "wow, I did this."

The tree is still standing, and she always will be

But the gunman, he now knows what he can do

and she will never be able to stop him from that

the gunman walks away with a cocky smile, whistling a tune

The tree simply stands, and grieves for his future crimes

"She was only sixteen," the news reporters on channel five say. "She had her whole life ahead of her." They put my picture on the screen and start talking about how I did in school, what I was like; then they start showing videos of me laughing, and getting awards. They break for a commercial and when they come back they start showing interviews of my parents and friends crying or talking about how great I was, but then they start talking about the gunman like she was a stranger, yet I knew her; they knew her too. She had long brown hair, and the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. They put a picture of her on the screen and I guess no one told the reporters that I was the gunman and the victim because they just look around and don't say anything for a while. They break for another commercial but when they come back my picture is still up on the screen, but all they do is stare. One reporter starts to speak, "I'm sorry we weren't expecting this. We thought she was killed by someone other than herself. We didn't know she was that bad, but I guess we weren't the only ones." Her voice breaks and she starts to cry. The man beside her looks at her and clears his throat, "Please excuse us, but this is such a surprise," he starts to look around the room. "She looked so happy. She looked okay." The room goes quiet and so do the reporters. The videos of me living were put on a loop and they won't go off until the segment is over, but that isn't scheduled for another hour. Everyone at the station starts to get up and walk around. The man goes to the producer and starts to yell at him about why he wasn't told anything and the woman starts to cry even harder. They break for a commercial and don't come on air for an hour after that, but when they come back I'm not ever mentioned again. They act like nothing happened. My mom always said that I'd be on t.v. This was it.