The Drug Lord's Son (Completed)

Chapter 32

"No!" She cried, rushing out the door, blowing past Toni. Clarke and I followed, sprinting down the hall.

She fell to her knees at the sight of her dead little boy.The bullet had entered the middle of his back, knocking  him face first into the ground. The powerful gun blew his back into pieces. Chucks of flesh and blood painted the wall. Clarke rolled him over. His eyes were still open. His innocent, tranquil eyes.

My heart stopped. I reached down, hoping, praying to feel the padder of his heart. I felt nothing. I left my hand there, waiting to feel something. Anything.
But this wasn't a movie where he miraculously and unrealistically returned.

"No! My little boy!" She balled. His little fingers loosened from his fist. She brushed her fingers through his soft, blond hair. He had just gotten a haircut. With the other hand, she tucked her fingers in his small fist.

I was broken.

My brother was dead. It wasn't his fight. He was innocent, and completely unaware of the life his family had taken up.
He didn't deserve to die. This wasn't his fight. He was just a happy little boy who liked race cars, grilled cheese, and playing pretend. The boy whose eyes widened at the sight of a sweet gummy bear.

I stared down it the lifeless, still body Jack had inhabited. His eyes were closed. My mom stoked his hair, feeling the texture of his light hair.

Toni laughed mercilessly from behind us.

Clarke sprang up and spun around prepared to brutally attack, but Toni had disappeared.

Clarke jumped past us and ran out the back door, chasing down Toni.

I couldn't stop looking at Jack. He was gone. His blood and body stained the walls. I was in such disbelief. I began to cry as I came to the realization that my little brother was dead. He was gone.

He was wearing his little blue coat with yellow outlining. His favorite colors. His shoes had little lights in them. They  flickered dimly, before stopping.

Clarke came back.

"He's gone. I couldn't catch him." He said, angry with himself.

"We have to leave." He said.

My mom sniffled, disregarding Clarke's comment.

"He's right, mom." I wipe my eyes. I pushed myself away from his body.

"We have to go." I grabbed her limp arm and tugged. She didn't budge. She continued to brush her son's hair. She was almost frozen.

"Mom!" I yelled, grabbing her harder.

"Mom, listen to me. We need to go. Mom, please. I can't lose you too."

She laid on Jack's chest. Her tears stained his coat. Perhaps she was expecting to hear a heart beat. She didn't listen to us.

"Mom. I can't lose you. Please. Mom!" I heaved up and lifted her dead weight.

She was brought onto her feet, she wobbled unsteadily.

Clarke threw her in his arms and carried her out. Even in his recently beaten state, his strength was still outstanding. He was significantly stronger than I was.
He set her in the back seat of his car.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I don't know."