A shot rang out. The silhouette crumples to the ground. I hear the crack of his skull as it hits the cement. I look at my father. It's still him, but something is missing. His soft expression is gone. I see a man with hard eyes, a grim expression and a day-old stubble. He looks back at me. "Everything will be okay, " he says in a soothing voice.
" Yeah.." my voice cracking, my face wet with tears.
The car is silent. I hear the light thumps as we roll the gravel road. "We're here," my father whispers. The drive was endless, passing through the dark green trees. I step out of the car. My dad comes out after me, carrying the gun that shot the man.
The man.
The man that my father shot.
I walk into the house. It smells of a sticky, humid day. I wander into my room and flop onto my beat-up, dirty mattress. I heave a sigh. Slowly my eyes close, my thoughts drifting. I dream of my mom kissing me on the forehead, Sammy babbling in the background.
