If I Die

Prologue

I hurriedly walked towards my room, tears blurring my sight. I couldn’t believe that they did that. It was all I had left. How could they do such a thing?

I stopped abruptly when I saw the opened door to my parent's room. I quickly entered and slammed it shut after me; locking every edge of it.

I rubbed my eyes to stop the tears from falling as I started to look around. Tossing the things that my hand could grasp here and there, I searched for what I wanted.

Unsatisfied, I walked towards their closet and yanked it open. The clothes began to fly as I continued my search. I knew they had a gun. I knew they kept it somewhere here.

Crouching down, I reached forward and felt my hand graze a cold hard metal. I clasped my fingers around it and pull to me.

It was an old pistol; the one my grandpa had kept back from the war. I slowly sat down as knocks and shouts were heard from outside the door.

I gazed upon the weapon in my hands. I suddenly felt powerful with the feel of it.

Smiling psychotically, I imagined pointing this gun at my own mother; I imagined pulling the trigger and watching her own blood pool around her cold motionless body. But dread instantly filled me up as I thought of my sisters. I couldn’t do that to them. They are too young to lose her yet.

Fresh new tears flowed down my cheeks as I remembered everything that led to this moment, as I recall the warmth of the fire and the horror freezing my blood, as I recollect bits of papers flying straight to the air, as I flash on my mother’s words and smile as she threw the last of the papers.

“They were pieces of trash, anyway.”

Pieces of trash..

The words revolved around my head as I closed my eyes and banged it against the wall.

Trash...

No! Those were everything to me.

I wanted to yell those words at her but my voice had failed me. I collapsed, shattered on the filthy ground. I was broken. My heart was ripped out and tears were streaming down my face.

They were all that I ever had...

The locks on the door began to click softly, one by one. I squeezed my eyes tighter and placed my finger above the trigger.

“If I die,” I whispered.

My arms began to shake but the cold metal remained pressed under my chin.

“If I die,” I whispered again, and this time my voice broke. “I want to see what happens next.”

And the sound of gunshot filled the room.

note: the rest of this story's chapters will be posted once done. This story was also inspired by Mitch Albom's The Time Keeper. Read it. It's awesome. Lol.

Anyway, if you liked this and want to encourage me to continue this. Please do say so at the comment section, also shower this with votes. (If you want. haha)

Thanks for reading!

Marshmallows and Chocolates,

Aeris Zarra