The next morning I awoke groggy and feeling like my head was full of stuffing. It was all I could do to get myself out of bed and into the kitchen to satisfy my growling stomach. As I reached for the handle of the fridge, I noticed a sticky note in the only normally clear space on the silvery surface.
"Gone to work honey, wanted to let you sleep. Try to have a good day" it stated, right beside the picture of my brother and I as kids, me sitting in a red wagon while he laughed and pulled me around. My hand fell back to my side, its objective forgotten. I stared at the picture, feeling my mind growing numb again with pain.
Finally, the whine of my dog broke my gaze, and my hand twitched as he licked it worriedly. My lips curled slightly in the start of a smile, but the horrible thoughts inside my head quickly pulled them back into a line. This wasn't fair.
Scowling, I ran my fingers through Ruger's neck fur a few times before gently pushing him away. Suddenly, an idea broke through the dark thoughts like a beam of light. I know things aren't right at the moment, but I think I can make them better. I turned abruptly and nearly tripped over myself trying to get down the hallway fast enough. As I clicked open my parents' bedroom door, a sinister smile crept onto my face. Past the dresser, across from the bed....there. My dad's gun safe stood tall and heavy against the wall, quite inaccessible to anyone who didn't know the passcode. But one gun always rested on top, at the ready in case of an emergency. And this is the biggest emergency of all.
I giggled to myself while I stood on my tiptoes to pull the 12 gauge down and hefted it in my hands. I just stood there for a moment, reveling in the comforting weight of the shotgun I had practiced with many times with my father and brother.
"It's time for you to be put to good use," I told it matter-of-factly. I blinked for a second as my head felt foggy, then shook it quickly. The fog seemed to fade away, leaving me with a pleasant buzz of excitement for my plan. I checked to make sure the gun was loaded, then exited the room without looking back. I barely noticed Ruger's agitated barks as I skipped through the living room with my weapon. I was floating on a cloud of happiness, knowing that soon everything would be ok again. I left the house without even closing the front door.
YOU ARE READING
Deer in the Headlights
القصة القصيرةSomething malevolent is to blame for the deaths of four people in four unexplained car accidents within the space of a month. At least, that's what the only witness to one of the crashes says. Getting someone to believe her, however, is nearly impos...
