Ready, Aim, Fire!

Here is a old short story from my freshman year. 

I stood against the cold, bloody, stone wall. The rain poured down like the sky was crying for me, I wish it would stop.... but it didn’t. I knew my time has come, I was not meant to be here any longer. As I gripped the dull blade in my pocket, I could feel it cutting into my skin, it didn’t feel right. As I looked up into the eyes of the men standing before me, I watched the one on the far left tremble in the cold of this rainy, darkening, dusk.