Status: Completed, Short Story
Song Bird
One.
A dirty sundress, stained with the joy of running in the mud.
Messy hair tangled with the winds kisses.
“Blue does, everything I’ve never seen before.”
An eight year old songbird.
“Sarah!” a gasp.
It was a memory, a silver dipped memory that always erupted with a blood red kiss sent by a bullet to a forehead.
His hand still remembered the weight of the gun, and for a second he saw it.
“Sarah!” his wife called, an American beauty they would have called her, hair amber in color that waved with the Texan breeze, eyes of the richest hazel, her name was Rachel.
An eight year girl made her way towards her, blue eyes and blond hair. An angel.
An angel I have to protect, and because I have to.
“Miller!” the man looked up and gave a grim nod, today was the day they had told him.
So he let his eyes kiss and heard the song that his daughter loved, the song wasn’t even that old, he could hear her sweet voice.
An eight year old song bird.
“David?” Rachel’s voice was sweet he recalled, sweet and rich like honey. “David why do you have a-”
Bang.
He blinked as he saw the blood red flower flourish and explode.
A smile appeared on his face.
His eyes opened and he saw the grim grey walls, a content smile reached his face.
“Mommy!” Sarah screamed, she walked towards her before she froze and looked up at him. “Daddy?” she said breathlessly.
“It’s okay baby, daddy is gonna protect you from the world, would you like that?” he said, his gun pointing upward.
Sarah screamed and ran, she ran through the mud, past the trees, and ran until she collapsed.
“Blue does, everything I’ve never seen…”
Bang.
David Miller sat in the chair, a content smile on his face, he heard the buzzing before he felt the shock.
He carried Sarah back to the house, and placed her upstairs on his and Rachel’s bed he came back down stairs and carried his wife to the same room.
“My pretty girls, I’ll be there soon.” He whimpered, he lifted the gun, and as he was about to pull the trigger…
“Dead at 11.32 AM.” The doctor said, he turned his heal and walked out of the room, he turned back his skin gained goose bumps, and his hair stood on end, on David Miller’s face there was a content smile.
Messy hair tangled with the winds kisses.
“Blue does, everything I’ve never seen before.”
An eight year old songbird.
“Sarah!” a gasp.
It was a memory, a silver dipped memory that always erupted with a blood red kiss sent by a bullet to a forehead.
His hand still remembered the weight of the gun, and for a second he saw it.
“Sarah!” his wife called, an American beauty they would have called her, hair amber in color that waved with the Texan breeze, eyes of the richest hazel, her name was Rachel.
An eight year girl made her way towards her, blue eyes and blond hair. An angel.
An angel I have to protect, and because I have to.
“Miller!” the man looked up and gave a grim nod, today was the day they had told him.
So he let his eyes kiss and heard the song that his daughter loved, the song wasn’t even that old, he could hear her sweet voice.
An eight year old song bird.
“David?” Rachel’s voice was sweet he recalled, sweet and rich like honey. “David why do you have a-”
Bang.
He blinked as he saw the blood red flower flourish and explode.
A smile appeared on his face.
His eyes opened and he saw the grim grey walls, a content smile reached his face.
“Mommy!” Sarah screamed, she walked towards her before she froze and looked up at him. “Daddy?” she said breathlessly.
“It’s okay baby, daddy is gonna protect you from the world, would you like that?” he said, his gun pointing upward.
Sarah screamed and ran, she ran through the mud, past the trees, and ran until she collapsed.
“Blue does, everything I’ve never seen…”
Bang.
David Miller sat in the chair, a content smile on his face, he heard the buzzing before he felt the shock.
He carried Sarah back to the house, and placed her upstairs on his and Rachel’s bed he came back down stairs and carried his wife to the same room.
“My pretty girls, I’ll be there soon.” He whimpered, he lifted the gun, and as he was about to pull the trigger…
“Dead at 11.32 AM.” The doctor said, he turned his heal and walked out of the room, he turned back his skin gained goose bumps, and his hair stood on end, on David Miller’s face there was a content smile.