A singel look:Bughead

"Accident"

Archie's POV:

The big house is getting too big without him. The house gets too quiet and the shadows chase me my head. My dreams chase me at night, all I see when I close my eyes is what we in the family call the "accident". The day it happened was like every other Saturday. Every weekend I would have a baseball match and regardless of whether we won or not, my dad and I would go to Pop's dinner and eat. I would take a hamburger but onion rings to a strawberry milkshake while he was going to take a hamburger with a vanilla milkshake. And after that we would eat orange ice cream. They were the ones we did every weekend. It was our tradition since Mom and Dad were divorced three years ago. You live in Chicago all alone, she has offered that I could go your way but I have never had the heart to leave my dad and especially not now.The "day" we were up in our order and talked about the match when I was just going to the bathroom and washing my hands before we ate the food. After the race everything so fast. All I heard was a shriek of a waitress. I rushed out of the bathroom. 

What I saw was a mysterious man with a black hood. He stood with a gun directed at my own dad. My dad was holding hands in peace. I tried to take him to protect him but I couldn't. I was horrified by the horror of the situation, it was like my feet stuck to the floor. I couldn't do anything. All I did was look at when he fired the gun and his bullet drilled into my father's flesh. The man with black hood ran away from there and it was only when I heard the doorbell ring when the door was knocked back and the bow had fled as I had the strength to move. I ran to my dad who was lying in a pool of his own blood. I had never experienced such a terrible thing before they. And I had never known before how powerful the horror is. 

In everything I have suffered so far, the silence is probably the worst. The house seems so dead when you are alone there all the time. When Dad was here everything was so full of life even after Mom left us. He used to be in the kitchen and cook with his cookbooks spread over different pages that he has not yet tried or so he sat in the everyday room and checked on a football match. But what I miss most about him is when I wake up in the morning when he sits at the kitchen table with his newspaper and a cup of morning coffee. He is the first person I meet when I wake up and the last I see when I sleep. He has taken care of me all the motto life he has saved from much and I could not save him a single time. It should be me who got that bullet in my meat. It should be me lying in a pool of my own blood on the floor of Pop's Dinner. But I had never wanted to expose him from this loneliness through suffering. He probably had more than a thousand bullets than be alone as I did and just wait, wait and pray for a miracle.

I can't just sit here anymore. Loneliness eats me from the inside out. Like that a beast lives in my body and wants out at any cost. I can feel its claws tearing and scratching in me. I need to see him again. I need to see that he lives.

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The car ride to Riverdale's Hospital felt too long. And I thought several riddles were just turning home, to loneliness. But he needs me and I know, he needs himself by his side. He has no one except me. I'm all he has left. I need his support, his rock, I need to be strong for both of us, I owe it to him. He had taken a bun for me and I should have taken that bullet for him.  

Even as I walk through the reception where an elderly nurse sat and pressed the small buttons on his computer, kindly greeted me with a slight wave and while I walked through the all too white and all too clean corridors I thought of turning around. To turn around and go back the same way to my home, to our home, back to the loneliness that plagues me. I doubt that I can be strong for us now when I stand in front of the door of his little room. But it's slow to turn around now. I have to be strong this time. I have to be brave. I'm scared but I have to. For him and for me. For us both. 

When I see him lying in his narrow bed, it is like a tidal wave striking my face. And everything comes back to me, it's like my life is played in front of my eyes with his pale face as a film screen. I can't be strong enough for both of us, but I can be strong enough for him. I have to be that for him. I have to do it even if it causes me to cry to sleep every night and go crazy. I am now ready to do everything for him. And I mean everything. I do all that is required for the man who has taken them all my life, seen me grow up and shaped me with his wisdom. For the man who took a bullet for me. 

That man was no ordinary robber, I'm sure he had already selected my dad to become his victim of his bullets. The man in black hood was looking for him. He had been looking to see his blood flowing out of his body and forming a red lake over the floor. For which robber is gonna forget to bring the money. He can't be a robber, no he was a cold-blooded killer. And I will never forget his eyes. They were cold and annoying and the green color only saw blood forming a pool on the floor. The man who exposed my dad for this was an evil man. He was a madman killer.

(1084 words)