3w4dw drabble - persona 3

[jaebility]

She fell backward (for a moment she forgot about the floor and expected to keep falling down down down into the abyss), scraping her spine through her sweater on the cabinets that marched in a row along the wall. The gun in her hand shook like it was alive and trying to escape, the muzzle pointing at her face, her heart, her forehead, her throat, her stomach. She had to pull the trigger (had to had to had to) or the slithering black darkness would get her, too.

Her shoes squealed (like a lamb at slaughter) when she pushed herself backward, and the cabinets still there behind her dug into her ribs. The dark hole of the gun's (not a gun, she tried to convince herself, not a gun, not a gun) barrel stared back, a single unblinking eye.