Saving Her

Chapter 1

Green eyes flashed in the dark. My hands reached out but there was nothing. The green eyes blinked and stared at me in indifference. I could start to see a silhouette of that which belonged to the green eyes. His broad shoulders positioned stiffly rigid. He stared impassively at me. Or was it something behind me? I couldn't turn around, my feet were planted where they stood like steel. I looked back over to the green eyes. His arm raised to reach out for me. Wait, no. There was a metallic click of something in his grasp. I tried to squirm. Or get away. But I couldn't even move an inch. I tried to yell or scream but my mouth was mute. Arm straight, he raised the hand gun to my head. I stared terrified of what could. No. What WOULD happen. I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as I as could willing myself believe that it wasn't too late. That I could still be saved from this. BANG!
I shot awake to the usual sound of my alarm clock. My heart was pounding terribly. Desperate to crawl right up into my mouth. I looked around at my ever so familiar room. I hesitantly left the warmth of my bed to get ready for the day. My bed still calling out to me. Just one night. One night of undisturbed rest would do me good. No night mares. No cold unfamiliar green eyes. No waking up to the sound of gunshots. The hardwood floor under my feet felt as unforgiving as the walls that surrounded me. Taking my pajamas off, I walked into my closet. I chose tight black pants which were ripped at the knees. I matched the pants with a black "TWENTY-ONE PILOTS" T-shirt. Also to top it off my dad's sweatshirt. There hasn't been a day since my Dads untimely death where I haven't wore his Duke's University sweatshirt. It's like, as long as I still wear it, I can still feel his embrace after a long days work. Or his tender look after my first break up. It's the small things about a person you start to miss after they're gone. The type of tea they drink. Or the corny dad jokes you have to sit through at breakfeast. Every little post card that they'd send after visiting a new place while on a business trip. You start to wish you had less days wasted fighting about the little things in life and more days exploring a deeper meaning to your life.

I slip on a pair of familiar old worn out converse with mud streaking the sides. Running a brush through my hair, I winced cursing my great Aunt Linda for inheriting her frizzy, curly, matted mess of red hair. Hastily running down two flights of white carpet covered stairs, I muttered to myself of how much I hated being on the third floor. As soon a I rounded the corner of the stairs I heard
"Hey Sweetie." My mom chirped unusually happy for this hour of the morning.
"What's gotten you so exited?" I asked dryly.
"I don't know what you mean." She states innocently with an edge of playfulness.
"What ever" I mumble under my breath. I grabbed a few things and stuffed them in my bag which included an Apple for snack, a banana for an on the go Breakfeast. And sharable bag of skittles. My favorite treat in the world. There's nothing quite like a packet of sugary, colorful,wonderful goodness as known as skittles.

"I gotta go" I state to my mom while grabbing my keys.
"You just got down here. Besides school doesn't start for another hour and you don't usually leave for another 25 minutes."
"Well I gotta finish the homecoming banner for the lower classmen. It's for art club." I answer.
"Oh." Her face falls "I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Can it wait till around 3, I really got to go"
Hurt flashes through my mom's eyes. I instantly feel bad.
Looking down as though the floor had become very interesting she murmured "I won't be home when school lets out"
"Well can you tell me some other time?" I leave open-ended as I walked out of the house, secretly hating the stone cold bitch I've become. I wish everything could go back to how they used to be. Picnics in the park. Having fun and just messing around with dad's old telescope because neither of us knew how to work it. Laughing around the fireplace outside during the summer. I can never get that back. He's in a cold wooden coffin in the ground. My mom spends almost every moment working. And trying to spend ever other moment away from the house that reminds her that she used to have a wonderful 3 way family. Me. Her. And my dad. Not this half shattered remnants of a family that's 2 years into picking pieces of their lives back up. And that's the end of it.