Revive (Book Two)

Chapter Eight: Signal

"It's okay to talk about it, Elias," Howl set her hands on the desk in front of her after placing her pen at the back of her ear, tucked away.

I gave a sarcastic chuckle, and glared in her direction. "There's not much to say. The first time I had a gun pulled on me I was eight years old, and was so petrified that I practically pissed myself right on the spot. He told me that if I ever touched his pack of smokes again, he'd pull the trigger," I scoffed. "Can you believe that? All because I moved them from one table to another.

"I don't like to touch other peoples things now, and I sometimes feel weird even having my own things because he always took everything from me. I never pulled a gun on him, but I did touch his smokes after that. I just wanted to see why they were so valuable to him. Was I scared that he'd pull the trigger? Sure. But I'd be free if he did - Thinking of death at that age... And being okay with it because I wouldn't need to be afraid anymore."

"How old were you when you tested this theory?" Howl's eyes, captivated in my story.

"Eight years old."

I kept my eyes closed shut, even though what was behind them was haunted. I sat in my pain for a long time, going over every little detail over and over, until it all made sense. I refused to let myself forget any details of what happened, because I was guilty, and I deserved to live with what I've caused.

His large teeth, although white, showed signs of smokers breath for what one could only assume is for over fifteen years. His smile was large, and his smirk... His smirk was daring. Even before his last breath, he smirked as he peered into my eyes for the very last time. No one else was with him during his final moments, except me.

Elias Kingsley... One green eye and one blue.

The sound of the bullet piercing through his skull and deafening the room alarmed my being but I forced my eyes to stay closed, squeezing them shut as tight as I could. My hands clutched the bed sheets as my chest felt so heavy, I could sink through the bed and beneath the floor.

Elias Kingsley... One green eye and one blue.

Please don't shoot!

Bang.

Again, and again, I replayed the image in my head, while forcing myself to suffer through it in nothing but complete, isolated silence.

My breathing sped up, although it came with difficulty. I felt as though my chest was collapsing in itself. Beads of sweat pooled down my temple, causing the lightest of dripping sounds on my bed.

A reminder of the blood, splashing against my face and smearing against the walls. His body, lifelessly crumbling to the ground with no hope left.

Don't shoot!

Bang.

I whimpered at the sound, but clamped my mouth shut. My knee forced itself to bend, in an attempt to curl myself in a ball and protect myself from feeling.

"You really want to test that?"

He grabbed his boot.

Elias Kingsley... One green eye and one blue.

Bang.

Bang.

Please don't shoot! Don't shoot!

He grabbed his boot.

Elias...

Bang.

Bang.

I turned his body over to see his face.

My subconscious began to play tricks with my mind, and it was no longer Lux's face I saw anymore. It was his. My fathers. "No," I cried out. "No, no, no!" Mortified. "Stop!"