Harry 1977
I laugh swinging the gun around on my finger as cops surround me. The trigger goes off and I smirk.
"Wasn't expecting that. Huh boys?" I say sarcastically.
I push past the dead cop and start walking up the stairs. Sometimes, it's good to be feared. You get whatever you want. I walk into my room and sit nicely on the bed. I put my hands neatly in my lap and look up at the guy with the gun pointed at my head.
"You know boys, every time I've been "killed" by you... Well obviously they don't work" I laugh "I mean look at me now. Alive. What makes you think it's gonna kill me this time?"
The police man, or should I say, mr. Donathan, as his name tag says lowers his gun and give him a smile.
"I mean I'm only 18" I say trying to pity them.
"Yeah. An 18 year old with 29 murder charges" mr. Donathan spats.
"Why don't you be number 30?" I smirk
The guns go right back to facing my chest and my head. The led lights turn on and I'm covered in the little red dots. I start to laugh uncontrollably and they look at me confused. They whisper and I hear the words "mentally ill" thrown around. I roll my eyes and one cop pulls the trigger. The bullet whistles by my ear and find a home in my bedroom wall.
"Your gonna have to fix that you know" I chuckle. "A shaky hand is no way to hold a gun"
I go to stand up and that's when the bullets ring out. One tucks its place in my shoulder. One digs into my stomach. And the last one to hit me, lands right at my heart. Or it would've, if I even had one.
Harry's mom pov
I click the door behind me and I hear a gun shot. My bag falls from my hand and the new produce scatters across the floor. I grad the gun out of our cookie jar
- yes, I know. Who hides a gun in a cookie jar, but when your sons a wanted criminal, what else are you gonna do hmmm?-
I kick off my heals and slowly make my way up the stairs. It's a little complicated because my tights are slippery against the wooden stairs. I reach where the stairs take a turn and there's a dead cop.
"Damn it Harry" I mumble under my breath
I get into his room and there's three cops with very advanced guns compared to my small hand gun. It was all I could really manage to grab at the time. I didn't know there would be heavily armed cops. Then I look at the bed. His blue, or should I say red sheets now. Then I look up at my baby boy. Dead on his own bed. My heart shatters and I look down.
"Miss? I'm sorry about your son. Did you know what he has gotten into?" A man asks me
"Yes... Sadly I do, I mean, who do you think were the brains behind those plans?" I say smirking and then I pull the trigger.
I make my way down the stairs and wipe the red off my gun and place it back. I turn on the water and slowly wash the dried blood off my hands. I fix my pearl necklace and smile into a shiny, plate. I place it back and slip my heals back on. And I act Like nothing ever happen. Just the way Harry and I prefer.
