Status: In Progress
Run
Dead.
I returned home from my nightly run, and everything seemed normal.
I walked into the kitchen to refill my water bottle, and that was when I heard it
"I said give me my fucking money!"
I stopped in my tracks, looking towards the stairs. My dad was home, but someone else was in the house. I reached under the cabinet underneath the sink and grabbed my shotgun. Staying quiet, I went to the pantry and reached on the floor inside the cake mix box--and grabbed my bullets, loading my gun.
My dad took me shooting, so we liked to keep weapons throughout the house. But of course, always seperate, from the little ones that visited.
I turned the safety off and cocked the gun back--whoever was upstairs threatening my dad was dead.
Going up each step at a time, quietly, I heard the man's voice again.
"I better have my money in the next 3 seconds or you're a dead man. 1..2..."
"3." I said as I pulled the trigger and sent the man on the floor.
My dad pointed to the door as if saying to go back out but it was too late.
"4." Before I knew it, a gun went off behind me and my dad fell to the floor.
"DAD!" I yelled, running towards him.
"Go. Run, and don't look back."
I turned and faced the door to look at the man who had just killed my father.
"You bastard!" I shot him in his kneecaps and then smacked him in his face with the butt of my gun. Running down the hall to my room, I locked the door.
Throwing everything I would need in my bag, I take one last look and then go out my window.
"Kill that bitch!"
I knew there were more of them, but I didn't stop.
I kept running through the night, and didn't look back.
I just witnessed a crime, and committed a murder.
There is no looking back now.
I walked into the kitchen to refill my water bottle, and that was when I heard it
"I said give me my fucking money!"
I stopped in my tracks, looking towards the stairs. My dad was home, but someone else was in the house. I reached under the cabinet underneath the sink and grabbed my shotgun. Staying quiet, I went to the pantry and reached on the floor inside the cake mix box--and grabbed my bullets, loading my gun.
My dad took me shooting, so we liked to keep weapons throughout the house. But of course, always seperate, from the little ones that visited.
I turned the safety off and cocked the gun back--whoever was upstairs threatening my dad was dead.
Going up each step at a time, quietly, I heard the man's voice again.
"I better have my money in the next 3 seconds or you're a dead man. 1..2..."
"3." I said as I pulled the trigger and sent the man on the floor.
My dad pointed to the door as if saying to go back out but it was too late.
"4." Before I knew it, a gun went off behind me and my dad fell to the floor.
"DAD!" I yelled, running towards him.
"Go. Run, and don't look back."
I turned and faced the door to look at the man who had just killed my father.
"You bastard!" I shot him in his kneecaps and then smacked him in his face with the butt of my gun. Running down the hall to my room, I locked the door.
Throwing everything I would need in my bag, I take one last look and then go out my window.
"Kill that bitch!"
I knew there were more of them, but I didn't stop.
I kept running through the night, and didn't look back.
I just witnessed a crime, and committed a murder.
There is no looking back now.