Passed On

Prologue

I didn't know what was going on. Mother hid me in the closet. I didn't know why, but I followed her instructions. Father told me that this was for my protection. He said, "Listen to your mother and be a good girl. I love you so much." He kissed me on my forehead and left.

"Dear, don't come out of the closet until Mrs. Davis comes to fetch you, okay? Be very quiet. Promise?"

"I promise."

Mother kissed me. "I love you," she said, with tears in her eyes and a scared expression. She closed the closet. It had a small opening, which allowed me to see out from the inside. Mother walked away and left me feeling scared. I was alone, but what I didn't know was that those were the last kisses I would ever receive from my parents.

I heard footsteps. They grew faster, and faster, and faster, and they grew louder. I watched frightfully. My uncle arrived holding a gun in his hand. Father said, "John, you don't need to do this. Put the gun down. It won't make things any better."

Uncle pointed the gun at my father. "I won't change my mind. You took everything away from me, and if I kill you, I'll receive everything that I've ever wanted." Uncle looked at mother. "But first, why don't you watch your wife die first. It would surely please me," he said with a smirk.

My mother stood tall and firm, as if she knew that she was going to die. She closed her eyes and waited for the gun to shoot her. "NO!" father shouted. I heard so many gunshots. I wanted to scream, but I promised I would stay quiet. Mother's clothes were red, full of blood. She was lifeless. I was on the verge of crying.

Father fell to his knees in tears, staring at his wife's lifeless body. Uncle then pointed the gun at father. "You're next." he said with a smile. "But before I shoot you, where is your daughter? I plan to kill her next."

"You will never find her," father said in anger, "and if you try to kill her, you will regret it."

"I'm afraid I won't," Uncle said while reloading his gun. "I won't regret anything, and I didn't even love this family anyway. Why do you think our parents are gone?" Father's eyes widened in shock, and he was shot before he could say anything. The room fell quiet, and all I could see was Uncle John's smile, looking at his dead brother and sister-in-law. He left the room, much to my relief.

I couldn't look away from my parents' bodies. I waited to see if they would move. I hoped that they would still be alive. I stayed in the closet for hours, barely moving, waiting for Mrs. Davis. Mrs. Davis finally arrived a few hours after my parents' deaths. She walked in the room and found them on the floor. Her face showed an expression of sorrow. She walked toward the closet and found me, crying and shocked, with emotions that flooded over me. She gave me a hug, which was of great comfort to me. I stood up and ran to the carnage of my parents.

"Mother? Father? Please wake up. Please?" I cried, "PLEASE!?" I couldn't stop crying. I hugged my father and mother, who were covered with [now coagulated] blood. Mrs. Davis couldn't help but cry as well.

"We need to go now, sweetie, we need to hurry up."

"But I can't leave them!"

I couldn't let them go. Mrs. Davis had to pull me away. She carried me to her car and said, "Remember what your parents had told you when someone dies?" She waited for my response, but I couldn't speak. She said, "They will become angels, and they'll be chosen to guide you throughout your life. Aren't you happy that they're angels now?"

"They're not dead. They're not dead. They're not dead," I mumbled. Mrs. Davis reached out to hug me. "Shhhh—its alright," she said softly.

I couldn't get the image of my parents' bodies out of my head. So much blood. I could still see Uncle John shooting them. I kept asking myself, why did they have to die? Why did Uncle John kill them?

Then I woke up. The same dream that always brought me back to the past. The same dream that always left me traumatized. I was only eight when my parents were murdered. I still couldn't figure anything out. What I did remember, was that I promised on that day that I would be quiet, and that I wouldn't leave my hiding place.

"You said that when you keep a promise, you get something good in return, mother," I mumbled. "...what did I get in return?"

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