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You Can't Spell Slaughter Without Laughter
Chapter Eleven.
I'm sitting in my room, watching my dad walk out on our family. I'm looking out the window, and I see Dad taking his stuff and putting it into his fancy-shmancy sports car. And if I wasn't a god damn faggot, I would know or care what kind of fucking car it was.
And as I saw him drive away angrily, my heart broke a little. As cheesy as it sounds, it did. I was the reason my family wasn't a whole. I was the reason my dad wanted nothing to do with my mom. Or Kailee. I was the reason Shaun was dead. Well, if it weren't for Jasper and Blaine, Shaun would be alive and with me.
They don't deserve to live.
I don't deserve to live.
And I have a plan to make this world a better place.
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"Mom, you should go." I said.
"No, sweetie. I rather be home with you kids. You're my family." Mom argued.
"Mom, go out with your girl friends. You deserve to have fun." I defended. It's been a week since dad left. Mom was invited to go to the movies with her friends. And she's a little guilty for leaving us.
"You don't mind baby-sitting?" Mom asked.
"No. Go out. Have fun. But, be back by midnight. Don't be too crazy tonight, young lady!" I said mockingly. She smiled at me, grabbed her purse, and went out. I turned and walked into the living room where Kailee was walking Hannah Montana or whatever. I sit down next to her and watch the Disney Channel or Nickelodeon or some shit for what feels like hours. I look over at the clock and it's finally quarter to nine. I sigh in relief.
"Okay, Kai, time for bed!" I sing-songed.
"No. When High School Musical is over," she whined. I switched off the TV and struggled to throw her over my shoulder. She was yelling and kicking quite hard, but I managed to carry her up the stairs. I dropped her on the bed and tried to tuck her in.
"Jake, I want to go downstairs!" she whined.
"Good night, Kailee." I said mockingly. Reluctantly, she plopped her head down and her pillow and shut her eyes. I walked out snickering and made my way back to the living room. I fell back on the coach. I began plotting my revenge.
Jasper is the one who killed Shaun. He kicked and punched his life through his skull and left him there for the life to ooze out of him onto the cold, hard ground. I was left to do the same, but I didn't. I'm still here. I'm alive.
Why?
Jasper doesn't deserve to live. And he won't.
I snuck into my mother's room and crawled under the bed. I squirmed around a little bit, and there it was; my grandpa's collection of guns from his glory days. I took a random one from the chest and ran out of the room, not looking back. I knew nobody was home, but the gun in my hands seemed so forbidden. I didn't even look down at it. I kept running until I was downstairs in my room. I locked the door and looked at the cold, shiny, black metal gun in my hands.
It was a .45 ACP 1911 pistol .
And I know exactly what to do with it.
And as I saw him drive away angrily, my heart broke a little. As cheesy as it sounds, it did. I was the reason my family wasn't a whole. I was the reason my dad wanted nothing to do with my mom. Or Kailee. I was the reason Shaun was dead. Well, if it weren't for Jasper and Blaine, Shaun would be alive and with me.
They don't deserve to live.
I don't deserve to live.
And I have a plan to make this world a better place.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mom, you should go." I said.
"No, sweetie. I rather be home with you kids. You're my family." Mom argued.
"Mom, go out with your girl friends. You deserve to have fun." I defended. It's been a week since dad left. Mom was invited to go to the movies with her friends. And she's a little guilty for leaving us.
"You don't mind baby-sitting?" Mom asked.
"No. Go out. Have fun. But, be back by midnight. Don't be too crazy tonight, young lady!" I said mockingly. She smiled at me, grabbed her purse, and went out. I turned and walked into the living room where Kailee was walking Hannah Montana or whatever. I sit down next to her and watch the Disney Channel or Nickelodeon or some shit for what feels like hours. I look over at the clock and it's finally quarter to nine. I sigh in relief.
"Okay, Kai, time for bed!" I sing-songed.
"No. When High School Musical is over," she whined. I switched off the TV and struggled to throw her over my shoulder. She was yelling and kicking quite hard, but I managed to carry her up the stairs. I dropped her on the bed and tried to tuck her in.
"Jake, I want to go downstairs!" she whined.
"Good night, Kailee." I said mockingly. Reluctantly, she plopped her head down and her pillow and shut her eyes. I walked out snickering and made my way back to the living room. I fell back on the coach. I began plotting my revenge.
Jasper is the one who killed Shaun. He kicked and punched his life through his skull and left him there for the life to ooze out of him onto the cold, hard ground. I was left to do the same, but I didn't. I'm still here. I'm alive.
Why?
Jasper doesn't deserve to live. And he won't.
I snuck into my mother's room and crawled under the bed. I squirmed around a little bit, and there it was; my grandpa's collection of guns from his glory days. I took a random one from the chest and ran out of the room, not looking back. I knew nobody was home, but the gun in my hands seemed so forbidden. I didn't even look down at it. I kept running until I was downstairs in my room. I locked the door and looked at the cold, shiny, black metal gun in my hands.
It was a .45 ACP 1911 pistol .
And I know exactly what to do with it.