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Of course, there were other reasons for her to be self-confident. In a word, Elissa was beautiful. She stood 5 foot 8, and athletically built, what with her rather thin waist and powerful shoulders. Her fingernails were short and always unpainted, as she often found that police work would disrupt her manicure. However, she almost always had her toenails painted a deep red; it was an indulgence of hers that she would rarely deny.
Of course, self-confidence can get a person in trouble. As Elissa was about to find out, it can sometimes get a person into much danger. So it was that on this Thursday night, Elissa was relaxing at her house on the outskirts of downtown. She was in a white tank top, with a cute miniskirt. She would be wearing flip flops when she went out, but was in her bare feet as she walked around her house. She had just finished getting ready for a night out on the town with some friends. It had been a stressful week for her, to be sure. She had just found out that Janet Smith, a notorious criminal around the area, had been released on parole. Janet was one of the first criminals who Elissa had put away, and it had been assumed that Janet would be in jail for many years. Tall, tanned and blond, with beautiful features, Janet had used her good looks to victimize men and women around the area for a number of years. She had stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars over that time, and had been involved in some nasty assaults as well. She looked like a model, but was strong like a common thug. Now, she was out of prison, free to roam the streets.
As Elissa was looking for something in her purse in the kitchen area, she heard her door open, slowly, creaking as it opened. She felt the adrenaline surge through her, and her mood turned from fun to all business. She reached into her purse and took out her gun, and tossed the purse under the table. She thought briefly about calling the police from her cell phone (she did not have a house line), but thought better of it. She didn’t need any help to deal with some common burglar.
As she slowly walked towards the front door, with her gun drawn, Elissa was caught by an incredible sight. It was Janet Smith, her old nemesis, standing at the door. Janet was in a pink tank top and jeans, with sneakers. She was holding an ominous-looking bag, and had a look of surprise on her own face when she saw Elissa standing there, pointing her gun at her.
“Wait, what are you doing here?” asked Janet, surprised. “You were supposed to be going out for the night.”
“You caught me a bit early,” said Elissa, smiling. “Now drop the bag and kick it over to me.”
“I don’t think so,” said Janet, grinning back at her. “I have some nice surprises in her for you.”
With that, Elissa immediately fired off 6 bullets from her gun, and the bullets whizzed by both of Janet’s ears, coming within inches of hitting her. Janet stood there, the smile wiped off her face in a flurry of gunfire; she just stared back at Elissa, shocked. “Now, I’m a great shot, and that was on purpose; the next one won’t be. Drop the bag, and get on the ground with your hands behind your head!” Elissa stood with both hands on her gun, pointed at Janet, with a look of utter concentration on her face. She had made the right choice not calling for back-up, and now she would get all the credit for the arrest.
Suddenly, she heard something hit the window towards the back of the house. Thinking it could be an accomplice to Janet, Elissa dropped her gun hand a bit and turned ever so slightly. Unfortunately, this gave Janet the chance she needed.
“You’re mine now!” Janet yelled, as she ran towards Elissa. Shocked, Elissa tried to turn her gun hand towards Janet to fire, but Janet rammed into her before Elissa could pull the trigger. The two women hit the ground, hard, and Elissa’s right hand hit the ground, jarring her weapon from her grasp. The gun skittered a short distance away.
"Oh no, my gun!" she exclaimed, and started to scramble wildly for her trusty weapon. She did not get far, though, and Janet grabbed her right ankle, pulling her back. She tried to claw at the floor with her left hand, to gain some traction, and strained out with her right arm for the revolver. Her fingers were spread wide, and her fingertips were about 6 inches away from her trusty revolver. It lay, taunting her from just beyond her struggling grasp.
“You’re not getting away from me this time,” said Janet, smirking, as she pulled Elissa back and started to climb over her back. Elissa was struggling with all her might, all her power, to get to the gun. Janet was stronger than Elissa had remembered; time in prison had obviously put her in much stronger condition.
Elissa’s fingers on her right hand were straining out mightily, spread wide, inches away from the gun handle. Elissa was such a good shot, that all she needed was to reach it to make this a fair fight. All she needed was the touch of the hot plastic and metal against her grasp, and everything would be ok. The light shone off the gun, as it sat there, mocking her from just beyond her fingertips. As she strained and struggled, her thoughts escaped her lips as words.
“Must…reach…my…revolver…” she grunted. “Need…it…more…than..ever…” She was straining with all her might, and it was quite a struggle.
Janet was able to climb on top of her back, and she too was straining out to reach the gun before Elissa. The two women were each struggling their hardest; Elissa with her right hand, as her left hand was held behind her, and Janet with her right hand. It was an interesting contrast; Elissa’s short fingernails straining out, just as Janet’s perfectly-manicured fingernails were also struggling. Both women’s hands were inches away from the gun. Elissa realized she needed to get it, if for no other reason than to keep it from Janet.
“Not so tough without your trusty gun,” said Janet, with a sneer, and, to Elissa’s horror, she snatched up her gun before Elissa could grasp it. Janet stood up and pointed the gun at Elissa, saying “I’m a good shot too – why don’t you walk over to that table and sit down in the chair for me. Elissa let out a little cry as she realized that her trusty weapon was now being used against her; it was almost like the gun itself had betrayed her.