Amy’s diamond earrings shimmered in the sunlight. She dazzled the photographers in her sparkling Italian evening gown. Even her platinum-blonde mohawk shimmered. The actress and former UFC fighter had her son and husband by her side. A gentle afternoon breeze washed over Amy’s flawless skin. Her evening dress had a low-cut design in the back, revealing the tattoo of a Siberian tiger between her shoulder blades. Amy dreamed of this moment. She loved walking down the red carpet at the Academy Awards with her husband and son.

Her arm would always return around her husband’s waist after she’d strike a pose for a photographer’s camera. Bryan kissed his wife while proudly holding his little boy in his arms. Amy’s first love was her son and husband. The Hollywood glamour and her starlet lifestyle were a side issue. This was her heaven. She wanted nothing or anyone to destroy her first love. Bryan and Omar wore matching tuxedos. One tall tuxedo and one pint-sized tuxedo fit for a prince and a king.

The king and the little prince escorted their queen down the red carpet in a dazzling fashion. If Amy had a choice, she would never wake up from her dream. Seeing her son in her husband’s arms made her wish it were all real. Seeing them both dressed in sharp tailor-made suits made Amy question if her heavenly vision of them was her true reality. These were the men she loved. A kiss on her son’s cheek felt real. Feeling her husband’s arm around her waist made her forget the nightmare that was about to come. Amy saw him coming every time, and she’d try to stop him. A crazed gunman disguised as a photographer would step out onto the red carpet, pointing his silver small-caliber revolver at Amy’s husband and child.

Amy could never stop the man from pulling the trigger. She’d see his imposing physique, his ripped jeans, the sunglasses that blacked out his eyes, and the tattoos that painted his massive, exposed, rigid arms.

It would end with her fighting with the man. She would punch the man in his chest, not caring about him being twice her size. Blood decorated the red carpet. The front of Amy’s glittery dress always turned a crimson violet-red. She could only land one punch on the gunman before getting shot in her stomach. There was nothing she could do after she would feel the 22 caliber bullet slice through her belly button piercing. Amy would try to scream, but nothing would come out. Getting shot was a minor concern for her because she’d feel relieved that her stomach caught the bullet instead of her husband and son. The daydream inevitably ended with Amy lying on the red carpet with her husband trying to cradle her in one arm while still holding Omar in the other.

“Mommy?” Amy snapped out of her daydream when she heard her son’s voice. It was like hearing the coo of a dove. “Are you okay, Mommy?” Omar asked, wondering why his mother stopped pushing him on the playground swing. The little boy smiled when his mother breezed her fingers across his face.

“I’m fine, baby,” Amy spoke through a smile. It took the sweet voice of her son to awaken her from her daydream. She looked down to see that a pair of cropped women’s blue jeans and a sleeveless blouse replaced her shimmering evening dress. A children’s playground replaced the pristine red carpet and the dazzling Hollywood atmosphere.

Amy went back to pushing her little boy on the swing. She thought about what happened earlier and how she finally had the chance to take her son to a theme park. Amy wanted to enjoy spending time with her son. She didn’t like how her daydream ended, but she did like how nothing could stop her from protecting the two men she loved the most... Not even a bullet.