A I was attempting to complete my uncompleted and confusing history coursework about the great Russia dictator Joseph Stalin.

Pursuing my thoughts I drifted deeper into the depths of the history exercise book my concretion was suddenly drawn towards the windows as I realized that the day had been replaced by the night and the streets engulfed by the darkness that the night had brought. I had not been aware of the time as I was busy doing my coursework.

Meanwhile, as I was glancing outside through the small bedroom windows in my room which did little to supply light for my room in, the day and becomes a dark cave at night unless I turn the light on.

Anyway, I suddenly noticed a strange dark figure walking swiftly along the pavement who quickly stopped walking and stood beneath the orange lighting of the street light, the persons appearances became clear but not clear enough to notice their face.

The mysterious person had dark blonde hair, or was it brown? He was wore a light length winter coat, long scarf and I large bag, but I noticed that he took something out of the bag, something long and he pointing the object towards me.

I panicked as I felt frighten and scared and he began shooting at my window. As shreds of glass flew in all directions in my room and the shooting continued and I attempting to reach my mobile phone and call the police but that was on my shelf.

I realized that the person was shooting at me, but why me? I'm just a youth 17 year old from London living in a flat. Why me? So I then ever so slowly walked towards the shelf on my hands and knees, the shooting had stop I though it was all over.

But I had to stand up in order to reach the shelf so I did and the person began shooting again I dived under my desk, but that was a wrong choice to make as I had been shot in the chest.

The sharp pain felt unbelievable and dangerous. I began that light headed and faint, my strength was weakening and the wound kept bleeding large amounts of blood. But I can't die I've still got to live my life and I've got done all of those thing I wanted to do. Such as a road-trip to America,meeting Nelson Mandela, University and so on. But why me?

Could this really be the end?