The Collapse

"Hi"

I stood there, watching the flames consume the car and all inside it. Including my bag of supplies. At least I still had my pocket knife. "I really did just kill a man, didn't I?" I thought. I didn't feel any different, and that's what scares me. "I should be feeling crushed with guilt" I thought. But I didn't feel that way, I felt no remorse, nor did I feel any kind of sympathy for the man I had just watched burn alive. "It was either going to be me, or him." I told myself, "Why should I feel sympathy for a man who robbed me at gunpoint?" I walked around the burning wreckage of the car. "I should see if I can find that gun" I thought. The grass was up to my knees and I brushed aside the grass. In order to search for it. I was about to give up when I saw the glint of something in metal, I reached down and picked up the small revolver. I had never fired a gun before, at least not a pistol. I had once shot a rifel with my dad, but my mom had sold it along with almost everything we had when he was drafted. Thankfully, this gun looked fairly simple. I opened it up to check how much ammo it had. It had five rounds left. It had held six but one round had been shot when I was wrestling for it against its owner, I remembered. I saw the small button on the side that was the safety. In about the same place as they are on a paintball gun. Which is the only way I had any idea what it was. I put it in my left pocket so I would have quick access to it if necessary. I went to the mans broken down car (mine was still burning), and opened the trunk. I found a heavy garbage bad full of stuff, I poured it out on the ground and began to take stock for the second time.
-Two pairs of shorts
-One pair of sneakers
-four bottles of water
-one hiking backpack
-one small box of revolver bullets (12)
-four cans of somthing I assume is soup, no way to be sure until I open them because the labels where gone.
-one box of cigarets
-one cheap cigaret lighter
-four hundred dollars in twenties
-one bottle of rubbing alcohol
-one box of baby wipes
Once I finished taking stock, I put everything into the back pack,It was one of the huge ones long distance hikers have. I put it on and started walking down the road, I had no idea where I was going. But the sun was starting to disappear on the horizon, painting the sky orange. The adrenaline of the earlier fight long gone, I felt exhausted from the day's events. I felt like I'd pass out if I kept walking much longer. I saw some houses on a street to the right of the road I was walking on. I made my way to the street, it looked like all the houses where abandoned. The first one had its garage door open. I entered the garage and saw there where no cars, only a few bikes. The door to the house was unlocked and easily swung open. "Well that was convenient" I thought. the inside of the house was a mess. Someone had tried to get out in a hurry. It was eerily quiet. I walked to the wooden stairs and climbed up to find a bedroom. I found the master bed room and dropped my backpack to the ground, great-full to have the weight removed from my back and shoulders. I stretched my arms the way I did before lacrosse games. I took off my ruined clothes and through them on the ground, they where destroyed. I open'd the closet of the room and took out some underwear to sleep in. It felt wrong to sleep in someone's bed naked. I unzipped my back pack and dug out the rubbing alcohol. I poured some in my hands and rubbed it on all of the cuts on my knuckles from digging through the concrete, and on the cut on my hand from holding the glass. It stung so much that it brought tears to my eyes. I also put some on the cuts on my legs from rolling on the street wrestling the British man. I had bruises on my back, shoulder, and chest, but I didn't know what to do about that. I climbed into the bed and pulled the sheets over me, and drifted off to sleep. It felt like had just fallen asleep when I heard what sounded like pots and pans down stairs. My heart started racing. I slowly stood up and put on some shorts from my bag, the air felt cold against my bare upper body. The noises from down stairs continued. I reached for the pistol that I put in my bag. The metal felt cool in my hand. I felt my way to the door of the bedroom, and opened it slowly. It made a creaking sound that made me cringe, but the voices down stairs didn't seem to notice. I crept to the stairs and peeked out over the railing. I saw two figures, they where both wearing gray hoodies. They where at the fire place which they where using to cook somthing that appeared to be noodles. I griped the gun tightly. I tested the next step. I didn't creak. I slowly descended down the stairs. As I got closer, I could tell they where girls. I started thinking up a plan of engagement. I'd spring up and surprise them. Then yell at them to get out, then go back to bed. Simple. I reached the last step. Their backs where to me. I took a deep breath and stood up and pointed my gun forward. They must have herd me because they sprung up and spun around to face me. I tried to speak, but I felt like my throat was full of cotton. We both stared at each other, my gun was extended in front of me. My hand shook. "Say somthing!" I mentally yelled at myself. "Hi" I choked. One of the girls who was holding a hunting knife stared back "hi".