I was next to the small table. The little vials of liquid caught and refracted the morning light. Next to them, the bulky silver gun rested. I knew I only had a second to grab it, but just the sight of it made me grimace.
Joan must have heard me breathing because she whipped around. Before she could say anything, I grabbed the gun and awkwardly pointed it at her.
"Drop the needle, Joan." I was amazed at how calm my voice sounded; the gun shook as I pointed it at her.
"Drop the gun, Sienna, or I inject her." Joan said, giving me a 'you must be stupid' look I recognized from our reality. She'd loved to use it when I did worse than her on tests.
"Don't you dare. I'll shoot you, I swear I will!" Again, I sounded more like I meant it than I felt. Drawing some small confidence from that, I stepped closer to her.
Shooting her was not what I wanted to do, but her standing there, eager needle hovering too close to my great-grandmother's arm, I knew I could do it if I had to. Confidence flowed through me, stilling the shaking and forcing my mind to focus.
"You couldn't hit me if you tried. Put the gun down. There's nothing you can do to stop me."