This is my freewrite for the prompt "Move Your Money" by Marianne West.
“Move your money,” he said as he held the barrel of the gun against the small of my back. The room was crowded, and I wasn’t really sure he would shoot me. Also, I didn’t really care. That may be hard to understand, but I was in a bad way after Kelsey died, and I just didn’t care about much of anything.
When I didn’t do anything, he poked the gun into my back more insistently, and since I still didn’t know what he wanted, I said, “What do you mean?”
“I mean I want your money,” he said, angrily.
I sighed. “Well, why didn’t you say that, then?” I asked. “It’s confusing.”
“Are you always this argumentative when someone has a gun on you?” he said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s my first time, actually. Does that make you feel special?”
He rolled his eyes. When I paused to consider him, I had to admit he was handsome in a “guy who has a gun trained on me” sort of way. He had a rough, weather-beaten face that was marked with scars, probably from a few brawls. However, his eyes were a deep, dark blue that seemed to go on forever. I had seen his type before, though. Sometimes pools were a lot shallower than they appeared on the surface.
“Probably the most important thing you should know about me,” I said to him, “other than the fact that I have a death wish, is that I have no money to move, even if I wanted to.”
“Maybe you’d feel differently after I have killed all your loved ones,” he said in a low, harsh voice.
That’s when I started laughing. I knew it was a crazy response, but I couldn’t stop myself. People started staring. The guy had to put his gun away because I was making a scene. I kept laughing. “What the hell is wrong with you. Shut up!” he said. I just kept laughing. I couldn’t stop.
Kill all my loved ones? He was far too late for that. I laughed and laughed. I barely noticed as I sank to my knees, laughing still. When I looked up, there were concerned faces all around me, and no sign of the gunman.