Love by the Bullet

Gas Station

(Okay so I typed this chapter then accidentally deleted it soooo I had to retype it and I'm pissed sooooo yeah:/ ... I hope y'all like it:) )

"What do you mean we're out of gas?!" I frantically ask.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK IT MEANS?!" My dad screams.

I obviously knew what it meant, I just didn't want it to be true. But it was true and I was terrified.

"Well... I guess we're on foot now," my mom calmly says as if this wasn't dangerous and deadly. She steps out of the car followed by my dad and Nick. I hesitate at first but then I climb over the seat in front of me and step into the pouring rain.

As soon as I step outside, I am drenched from head to toe with rain. My clothes are wet, my hair is wet, and I am not happy right now.

Since we packed so much, we could only carry a little bit. I carried my weapons and my satchel, my mom carried the food, Nick carried the extra amo and weapons, and as usual my dad carried nothing.

...

We have been walking for hours strait now. Only stopping a couple times to kill some flesh eaters along the way. I am so tired. My feet feel like cinder blocks, my legs feel like jello, and I'm still wet! my head is pounding and I just can't take this anymore!

"Ugh! I'm so tired! Can we stop now? PLEASE?!" I wine. "My feet hurt!"

"Yeah there's a gas station right up here," Nick tells me pointing to a sign behind me.

We walk until we get there, which only took about ten minutes, but it felt more like ten YEARS!

We all head inside, cautious of any flesh eaters, and start to set up camp. My dad and Nick board up the windows while my mom sets up some beds. I survey the candy isle, looking for anything good to eat.

Snickers, Reese's, Herseys, almond joy, blah, blah, boring...OOOO TWIX! MY FAVORITE!!! I grab my chocolate treat and tear it open as if I haven't eaten in days.

I finish off the candy bar a lick off the chocolate from my fingers.

I am now almost dry. The ends of my hair are still wet and my clothes are damp. By now the boys have finished with the windows and my mom is done with the beds. Nick is fiddling with his gun, my mom is cleaning up the trashed gas station, and my dad is drinking bear from the freezers (imagine that!). He then goes and takes every single cigarette packet from behind the counter and stuffs them into his bag. I roll my eyes and lye down on my makeshift bed made from packing blankets and close my eyes and start to think.

Maybe this change in the world will be good for me. I mean my life wasn't so much better before.

Maybe my dad will change and stop hurting me and mom and Nick.

Maybe my dad won't change. This word could make him worse and even more mean (if that's even humanly possible)

Maybe he'll die.

Maybe mom will die.

Maybe Nick will die.

Maybe I,ll die.

Maybe I'll live.

I don't even know what to think of what the world has become.

I push away those thoughts and examine all my cuts and bruises given to me by my dad: there's one on my small wrist where he yanked me all the time. There's some on my neck from when he chocked me by wrapping his hand around my neck and squeezing as her as he could. There are many burn marks on my arms from when he burned we with his cigarettes.