𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 ⌖ 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴

The Vice of Killing

"Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once."
– William Shakespeare
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"Mom, look!" Sophia shouts triumphantly, her voice disrupting the quiet. Carol's response is immediate; she raises her index finger to her lips, signalling for silence. Sophia's exuberance dims slightly, a flicker of realization dulling the sparkle in her eyes. The interaction evokes an image of Dad's PTSD episodes, where he would drift in and out of a trance-like state. Her reaction sadly makes me wonder what exactly happened in those five days she was missing.

"Show me, honey," Carol says gently, extending her hand toward Sophia. Sophia toddles over, her tiny fingers unfurling to reveal the treasure she found amidst the field. The instant Carol sees what's in Sophia's hand she gasps and instinctively swats the object to the ground. "Sophia, do not pick up dead bugs!" Carol squeals, utterly repulsed. Sophia's face crumples into a pout, her lower lip jutting out to display her disappointment. The sight is unexpectedly comical and I crack up, laughing loudly.

This morning, much like the previous one, Carl woke me up, but this time, Sophia accompanied him. I got out my guitar, expecting that they wished to learn a new song. However, they clarified that they wanted to go for a walk and Rick advised that I join them.

At his recommendation, I forgot all about coaxing Hershel into letting our guests stay and went with them. Although in hindsight, I wish I hadn't come. I should have anticipated that chaperoning two kids and a mother wouldn't be the most entertaining event.

Unfortunately, the excursion involved locating bugs and other unattractive creatures. While I was no stranger to the outdoors, the thought of potentially getting a tick dampened all enthusiasm. Despite my unease, what struck me as odd was that Carl hadn't mentioned learning the guitar once. A part of me deliberated whether his interest in music was waning. But, seeing how my Walkman seems permanently attached to him, it's likely that he's simply indecisive on what to learn next.

'Too many good choices to pick from,' I think.

Sharing my sentiment with today's activity, Carol pipes up, suggesting, "Maybe we should head back?" She clasps her palms in discomfort.

I chuckle and nod, "I'm good with that." The kids groan in protest, amusing me further. "Quit your whining, let's go," I huff playfully, lightly shoving Carl forward. Him and Sophia both shut their mouths, pretending to sulk to stifle their giggles.

As we head home, Carol moves to my side. Noticing her stare, I glance her way and give a warm smile. "They really listen to you. I'm jealous." She grins softly and I chuckle with a shake of my head.

Doubtingly I reply, "You think so?"

"Hell yeah," she pronounces and my eyebrows rise at her mild curse—definitely not something I'd expect from her. "You're like the child whisperer. Teach me your ways," she jokes, and I snort with another swing of my head.

"Maybe they just recognize that I haven't matured past age thirteen," I quip and she laughs heartily.

'I guess she liked that one. Didn't deny it either.'

"Whatever it is, keep it up," she utters with a hint of something else in her tone, perhaps referring to protecting them, as I did for Sophia. I offer her a genuine smile, one that quickly nosedives into a frown when a rumble of gunshots quakes the Earth. Carol's cheer evaporates with a gasp, and she immediately reaches for Sophia. I do the same, instinctively lurching for the kids, shielding them from whatever incoming threat.

I turn to Carol and instruct sternly, "Take them to the house now." She nods meekly, barely comprehending my words before I take off in a sprint.

The relentless pace of my boots hammering across the yard echoes in sync with my erratic heartbeat. With every step closer, the clamour of bullets intensifies, vivid and piercing. The source of the firing appears to emanate near the barn, fueling my imagination to fabricate wild scenarios.