Stockholm Syndrome | p1

My face freezes in terror as the robber stands in front of me, pointing the gun in my direction. This is it, I think. This is the end, the thought crosses my mind as I stare silently at the barrel end of the revolver, it's like the world around me has stopped moving. As if in slow motion, I see the gun move slightly and fire, the bang of the gunshot fills my ears just before I close my eyes reflexively. I brace for impact, but after a moment I hear... nothing.