Adjustments

Adjustments 17

Sarah

"Oh my God!" I scream in shock. This can't be happening! He can't be dead! He's too young! I chose myself over him! I didn't want him to die, that's why I'm here! No, this isn't real!

"Noah, wake up! Please!" I investigate his blood soaked shirt and can't find a wound to apply pressure to! Did he get stabbed? What happened?! Where's my father? He needs an ambulance!

Tears are pouring out of my eyes to the point where I can't see! I continuously shake his body, trying to get him to open his eyes. I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping that someone will hear me! I take my phone out and call 911. They ask me what the injury is, but I don't know. I hang up with them after giving them the address and continue screaming at Noah's lifeless shell.

"Please! Get up! Noah, please! No!" I scream in between sobs. "I'm sorry I left! Okay, I'll never leave you again! Please, don't do this!" My mouth is moving before my brain can catch up. I lean down to kiss Noah's cold, white lips. Then, the door closes behind me.

I turn hastily to see darkness. I pick up my purse and take the hairspray out. I know that my Dad is playing tricks with my mind. I stay on my knees, kneeling next to Noah's frame as if to protect it.

"I'm done screwing around Dad. I came here. I chose myself not him and you still killed him. Stop being a fucking coward and face your daughter like a man." A light suddenly turns on and my father appears in the doorway into what appears to be a kitchen.

"It's been twelve years since I started my search for that boy. I finally found him. I have you to thank for that, Sarah." He says smiling that twisted smile.

"You're sick."

"Now, is that how you should talk to your father?"

"You're not my father." He reaches into his pocket and takes out a gun. My back straightens and I look at Noah's body. "You shot him." I say under my breath.

"He was a strong one, not going to lie. The first time I shot him, he still fought. I got him the second time." I hold back the sobs, not showing my father weakness. Twice. He shot Noah, twice.

"What are you going to do now? Kill me too?" I ask, standing up. He moves closer to me. I stand my ground.

"Wow, you're not shaking!"

"I refuse to be afraid of you." I say. "Just tell me this. Why did you bring him here?"

"I didn't. I texted him the same thing I texted you and he came here an hour before you did. You were too late, Sarah. Maybe if you came sooner you could've saved him."

"I know it's because of me, you don't have to rub it in."

"Did you think he cared about you?" He asks, coming closer, now standing directly in-front of me.

"Why else would he have come here?" I ask.

"He knew it was inevitable. He knew he couldn't run forever. He had to face the fate that his father created."

"That you created."

"Watch yourself young lady!"

"So what, were you still going to kill me if he didn't come?" He doesn't say anything.

"I'm glad he came. I don't feel comfortable killing my own daughter." That is my answer. I see the gun in his hand. He seems relaxed, too relaxed. He doesn't think I'm strong and can defend myself. But he's wrong. In the middle of his sentence, I twist the hand holding the weapon and punch his gut at the same time, making him winded and causing him to release the gun. I take it and aim it at him. He looks at me, surprised.