His Final Shot

Chapter 1

A tall man appeared before him and his father all dressed from head-to-toe in black. Or so it seemed. He was there that night, and he witnessed a brutal and devastating murder. His father had been shot that cool dark night with a common Glock 22. Not once. Not twice. But three times right in his heart, where all his wonderful memories and endless love had been stored. It was a bloodbath. 

The man asked in a deep, yet familiar voice for the little money David's father had. David's father had reached into pocket with trembling hands and took out the scraps of money he had. And seconds later David found himself following the trajectory of the bullet. David felt as the soul lifted from his father's lifeless body as it collapsed to the floor. It was the most frightening nightmare come to life. Pain and panic filled David's body as tears poured out of him as if a salty waterfall had appeared before his eyes. The thoughts running through his mind were indescribable. He never let anyone watch him cry, but this was an exception. From that day on nothing, and no one had been the same.

That was a long time ago...

He let the globe like ball slip out of his sweaty fingers, and fly through the air of the cool dark night. The dirty orange ball gladly went through the web like net that was loosely attached to the narrow hoop. Joy filled David's heart. His mind began to wander as he remembered the days his father took him to this exact dirty, abandoned, but memory filled basketball court. He began to commemorate his father's smile and how easy-going yet an exuberant person he was.

David thought differently. He saw things differently. Yes, he went to school, and had piled up papers of homework. He too spent time listening to boring history lectures, but things in his end of life were distinctive. In a society like his, there were things that differed him from others. Fame. Money. Girls. It all meant nothings to him now. He's seen the bad side of this world we treasure so much; he knows that there can't be any good without bad. And the bad in people has slowly begun creeping out of the good they think they do in the place David wished he could call home again. 

But he has been through it all. Drugs. Alcohol. Parties. He has seen other go through it as well, and decided to keep his self shut. But now, all he wants. No. All he needs is a little happiness to keep him going. He has hoped, for some time now, that God would lead him into the right direction. Soon. If not for him, then for the sake of his torn family. It's been just the two of them for a while now, him and his mom. He cooks from time-to-time. He'd gotten a part time job to help around. But ever since his dad died from what David hoped was a mugging gone wrong and two years ago, it all changed. David changed, and so did his whole world. 

As the ball bounced back on the floor and began to roll onto the surrounding grass, David stood there smiling widely as he could see his breath in the thick cold air of his hometown. His wavy brunette hair was filled with sweat, and his arms aching from bruises. He ran for the ball once again and took a couple more shots, which went swiftly in, until sleep began to over take him. His eyelids felt heavy. He picked up his ball that was by a greasy rusted metal pole from the old dirty court and raced home.