Footsteps in the Night

Chapter 2

I hear him behind me on the stairs. He fires his gun. He misses. Front door. Yard. Sidewalk. Street. He fres again behind me, twice. One bullet buries itself into a tree on my left. Another hits the road and richochetes off to my right. I think of my family.

I run.

Away, away.

Somewhere in my mind, I realize that I am now an orphan.

I run.

I reach the park. I run up the steps of the play structure and sit down inside the slide. My watch reads 11:47. I put my head down on my knees and dry sobs rack my body. Tears will come. I know it.

I wake in the park. I must have fallen asleep in the slide. I am disoriented for a second, and then it hits me. Slamming into me again and again, like a tidal wave. I make my way toward the police station on foot. It takes an hour, but I'm there. Someone in my neighborhood had called the police when they heard the gunshots, but they did not come. I guess it's because no one saw anything. I speak to an offcer and 5 minutes later we are headed to my house in a police car, sirens blaring.

We are back. Home sweet home. I show him upstairs and he calls the station. Soon my home is swarming with policemen and a detective or two. I am asked thousands of questions. I describe the man. His face is permanently burned into my memory. Black hair. Widow's peak. Green eyes. Pasty complexion. The lips. Perfect teeth. Eventually, I go to my room and lie down. I am shaken awake by an officer.

"I'm sorry, hon." He says. "You can't sleep here. This is a crime scene now."

I cry.

I ask if I can take any of my belongings. He says no.

I cry.

As I have no grandparents, it is decided that I will stay with my Aunt Edith. I hate my Aunt Edith. She is fat. She is mean. She has dogs. 17 dogs in all. They all hate me. I hate them. I throw a tantrum and I am allowed to take some things as the man never went into my room and they can't be considered evidence. I take my suitcase, some clothes, some PJs, my jewelry, my stuffed animal, photographs, my phone, a toiletry kit. I go down to my parents' room and I look through their things. I take my mom's wedding rings, some of her clothes, her perfume, her shoes, her Mickey Mouse collection, her wedding picture and all the photo albums I can find. I need another suitcase. I take her suitcase. I take my dad's shirt, his favorite tie, his shoes, his watch, his phone. I also take my mom's phone. I go to my brother's play area upstrairs. I take his Lego plane and our family in Legos.

I cry.

He left his shoes here. I take them.

I miss my family.

We do not believe in God, but I pray. I say a prayer that my family went to Heaven. That they are happy. That they feel no pain when at this moment their wounds are being examined by a forensics team.

I miss my family.