Violence is Always the Answer

Chapter 6: Home Invasion

The next morning, I woke up a little earlier than usual. Thoughts of yesterday's attack filled my head. Max often came up in those thoughts. "Time to drown my dark thoughts in food," I thought.

I left my room and saw Max still sleeping on the couch. I searched through the fridge for something to make for breakfast. I grabbed the egg carton only to find it empty. "What the hell happened to my eggs?" I asked myself. "Max! Max, wake up!" I called.

"Fuck off," she responded in a half conscious voice.

"Max, wake the fuck up!"

"What the fuck do you want?" She asked. Barely even awake.

"Did you eat all the eggs?"

"Yeah, I had a little snack."

"Goddammit, I wanted to make some omelets. You're going out to get more."

"The only thing that I'm getting, is sleep. Now let me do that."

I took the empty carton and threw it at her head in anger. "Ugh, I'm going to fucking kill you," she said as she stormed up to me.

"Max, I can kill five people holding me at gunpoint without anyone firing a bullet. What can you do to me?"

She swung at me trying to land a punch. I easily grabbed her fist and pushed her to the ground.

"Jacob, let go of me," Max said. "I'll let you go if you promise to go out and get me eggs," I negotiated.

"I don't negotiate with crazy people."

"Well since I'm your dad, it runs in your blood. So you're crazy, too."

"I'm not getting your fucking eggs."

"You'll get my eggs or I'll break your arm. Your choice," I told her.

"I'm not doing anything," she grunted through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure about that?" I placed more pressure on her arm.

"Alright! Alright! I'll get the eggs," Max mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I'll get your damn eggs. Now get the fuck off of me."

"Thanks, Max. I love you."

"Fuck you."

I gave Max a few bucks and she went for the door. Obviously, still longing for sleep. Not a care for a looks, just read to get back to sleep as soon as possible. She suddenly stopped at the door.

"Jacob, quick question," she said.

"Shoot," I told her.

"Why didn't you stay in Chicago? Stay and help my mom raise me.

"Well to be fair, I didn't really know you existed."

"Even if you did, I don't think you would've stayed," she said. "Would you have?"

"To be honest, No."

As if on cue, a canister of tear gas crashed through my window. "Shit," I said. As the gas filled the room, CIA agents soon followed bearing guns, ballistic shields, and gas masks.

Max and I started to cough excessively. A heavy pain erupted in my chest. Water filled my eyes almost blinding me. The agents began to shock me with shock batons. After a half dozen hits of thousands of volts traveling through my body, I lost consciousness along. And my limp body was thrown into a small metal box.

I woke up strapped into a straitjacket on a couch. I could barely see anything. There was a bright spotlight beaming down on me. Besides the couch, the room was completely empty.