I had just walked home from school, the day it all came crashing down. I was in the middle of the lawn when I felt something. A presence. I stopped, instinctively. "Who's there?" I said, not daring to turn around. Then I heard something, a click. Perhaps a snap. I couldn't take it any more, and whipped around. Standing about 5 feet away was a tall, dark, cloaked man. His cloak covered most of his face, but I could scarcely see two gleaming brown eyes. They pierced into my skin, and I could almost imagine a grin painted onto his face. Then I noticed it. A piece of what looked like black metal. No, I knew what it was now. A hand gun. Very simple, but deadly. Then his fingers fiddled with it once more before I heard a loud snap then a whistle. I stared in dismay at the man, then the bullet. I could only think to myself one thing-I've had a good life. Short, but nice. I had amazing friends and had a full belly at the end of the day. This wasn't how I expected to die, and I obviously was hoping for a fuller life. But I can't complain. So I closed my eyes, and prayed. Suddenly, as the bullet was about a few inches away, a flash on white made my eyes open very suddenly. I saw the wagging tail, the long pink tongue, I would know that furry face any where. Lacie. She leaped in front of me the exact second the bullet would of hit. She fell, one eye open, the other closed, trying to endure the pain. She ever so slowly got up, and snarled at the man. She leaped at his ankle and using the last of her strength, flung the man across the lawn into a nearby oak. He slumped down to the ground, but slowly raised the gun once more. Lacie ran over, and bit his neck. The man's eyes widened in shock, then his eyes dimmed until they were glazed. Finally, Lacie tumbled to the ground and closed her eyes. I ran over to her, screeching, "LACIE! NO! NOT YOU! DEAR GOD, NOT LACIE!" I ran over and collapsed next to her limp body, holding her close. "Lacie...I don't know if you knew, or not, but thank you. I'll miss you so much, but you know that. Thank you. I live because you died," her fur was stained with tears as I finished the sentance, "thank you for taking the bullet."