Orphaned
Home is where my bullets are
When we pulled in front of my door, my heart was already sinking, the front door was wide open. Signaling for everyone to stay where they were, I pulled out my gun, a pistol, and slowly made my way inside. The once neatly kept and displayed entrance was askew. The coat rack was knocked over, rug bunched up. Jumping, I saw a zombie on the floor, a bullet buried in its brain. I was trying to convince myself that they had gotten out, they weren't here.
"Mom? Dad?" I said quietly. No response. Heading though the living room, I went cold as I saw drops of blood on the floor. They trailed their way into my parents bedroom. The door was slightly open.
The creaking of the door as I pushed it open was deafening. I clamped my hand over my mouth as I saw a large blood splatter against the wall, the ashen body of my dad slumped against his dresser, the top of his head missing.
"M- mom?" I asked, seeing what was hopefully my mother lying on the bed, a large chunk of her shoulder missing and a strewn shotgun across her lap. "Mom?" I asked, voice quiet.
Her eyes opened, still the beautiful green they've always been, just slightly glazed over.
"Amber?" She asked. I nearly collapsed in relief. "Mom, it's alright, you'll be okay. We'll fix you up and get you out of here." I said, even knowing in my heart that it wouldn't work.
She shook her head, wincing, the movement seemed to hurt. "No sweetheart. You're not. I can feel it, I'm not going to last much longer. You know what you have to do," she said, voice raspy. Already feeling the tears stream down my face, I nodded, cocking my gun.
"Remember, I love you and your brother more than anything in the world, tell him that, make sure he knows it," she whispered. I nodded, hardly able to see now.
"We love you too mom," I said, placing the barrel of my gun against her forehead. She closed her eyes, a look of total peace and serenity on her face, "I'm sorry."
Outside, a shot was heard, just a single one. William, her younger brother, jumped up, convinced that his sister needed help, but was held back by other members of the group. He looked around, confused, "what did she shoot?" The seven year old asked.
"Mom? Dad?" I said quietly. No response. Heading though the living room, I went cold as I saw drops of blood on the floor. They trailed their way into my parents bedroom. The door was slightly open.
The creaking of the door as I pushed it open was deafening. I clamped my hand over my mouth as I saw a large blood splatter against the wall, the ashen body of my dad slumped against his dresser, the top of his head missing.
"M- mom?" I asked, seeing what was hopefully my mother lying on the bed, a large chunk of her shoulder missing and a strewn shotgun across her lap. "Mom?" I asked, voice quiet.
Her eyes opened, still the beautiful green they've always been, just slightly glazed over.
"Amber?" She asked. I nearly collapsed in relief. "Mom, it's alright, you'll be okay. We'll fix you up and get you out of here." I said, even knowing in my heart that it wouldn't work.
She shook her head, wincing, the movement seemed to hurt. "No sweetheart. You're not. I can feel it, I'm not going to last much longer. You know what you have to do," she said, voice raspy. Already feeling the tears stream down my face, I nodded, cocking my gun.
"Remember, I love you and your brother more than anything in the world, tell him that, make sure he knows it," she whispered. I nodded, hardly able to see now.
"We love you too mom," I said, placing the barrel of my gun against her forehead. She closed her eyes, a look of total peace and serenity on her face, "I'm sorry."
Outside, a shot was heard, just a single one. William, her younger brother, jumped up, convinced that his sister needed help, but was held back by other members of the group. He looked around, confused, "what did she shoot?" The seven year old asked.
♠ ♠ ♠
And that's all.