One Out of Four

Chapter 1.

Have you ever heard the saying, "Every child deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a child"?

I'm Kacey Tyson, and I am a firm believer in that statement for various reasons. Perhaps I should provide some backstory to explain my reasoning.

It all began in the year 2011 when my family went for ice cream. Little did I know, that trip would lead to a loss I will never forget. My father, Dylan, took my brother, Kyle, who was six at the time, and me, who had just started mimicking sounds I saw.

My mother always preferred to stay home rather than going out. Although Kyle, my dad, and I took a while to come back home, it made my mom anxious. She was already missing her kids, sitting in the living room watching the news. Nothing special, I guess. Her anxiety faded when she heard three knocks at the door. Each knock grew louder, and each time the door opened, it brought a bigger smile to my mother's face.

Her name was Carol Jenkins. She was a strong, caring, and beautiful woman. Her eyes would glow with warmth in the presence of the sun, a sight that Dad cherished. He adored her laughter at his jokes, even when she would playfully wake him up early for work, though he'd grumble in response. She was a punctual person, never missing an appointment. Perhaps that's why her passing felt so heart-wrenching; it was as if time itself had marked the moment of her departure. God must have known it was her time, for she left this world precisely when she was meant to.

If only she hadn't opened that door that night. Three shots were fired, twice loudly into her stomach and once into her head. She died on the spot. An intruder took away her innocence, her role as a mother and wife, and her dreams of watching her babies grow.

There's a myth that she died smiling, thinking she would get to see her husband and hug Kyle and me one last time. Maybe one last time would've been nice. But that lifetime has already vanished.

We arrived at the house minutes after. The intruder had fled the scene by then.

"Hurry, Dad, I want to see Mama," Kyle spoke with excitement as Dad turned the key to the left on the doorknob.

One second, I saw the door opening, and then my eyes were shut. Darkness is what I saw. Dad must've closed them so I didn't witness the darkness at such a young age, but darkness will forever be etched in me. Dark like the last vision my mom saw as she took her last breath.

Dad screamed like never before. At the time, I didn't understand. Instead, I kept stepping in a liquid beneath my feet.

Dad grabbed me and Kyle and brought us upstairs to the hallway.

"You can open them now," Dad told us with a shaky tone.

Kyle was confused, staring at Dad as if he had lost his mind. "Why did we cover our eyes?" Kyle questioned.

Dad's eyes widened. I knew he wanted to run downstairs. "T-to play peek-a-boo. " Dad explained with watery eyes. Kyle and I laughed as we played peek-a-boo.

"Listen, I need you to take your sister to your room and play on your devices. Can you do that for me?" Dad requested as he turned Kyle's back around and made me hold Kyle's hand.

Dad rushed back downstairs and called 911.

At this point, curiosity did not run through my head.

I must've fallen asleep in Kyle's room because my vision was blurry when I opened my eyes.

I inspected the room as I sat beside Kyle. I was in the waiting area at the hospital.

Now I'm wondering where my mom is, as she doesn't seem to be anywhere.