Shots Fired

Chapter 7

I was on the bus for over three hours until I finally reached the apartment building. I got there around eleven at night and Austin was still on the couch drunk with more whiskey bottles next to him. It's been over two weeks since our parents died. The apartment smelled like alcohol and cigarettes. Austin has officaly lost it. I don't know what I can do to help him, it's seems like he doesn't even want help. I feel terrible seeing him like this, I still feel like this whole thing is my fault because I didn't do anything to save them. What if Austin blames me too. That would explain why he hardly even looked at me since I got here. I texted Juliet telling her that I won't be at school tomorrow. I'm not up to going back I kept telling myself that I was but honestly I just wanted something to take my mind of this whole situation. I decided to read some of my book that I was assigned to read until I fell asleep. I woke up with a aching pain in my stomach I felt like I was going to throw up. I took my temperature but I didn't have a fever it's probably because I haven't ate anything in days. I tried going back to sleep but nothing worked no matter how hard I tried to fall back asleep, I just kept thinking about my mom and dad lying dead on the floor with their blood everywhere. I want to go back home, I want to see the house again. I want to go in my parents bedroom, I can't push it off any longer I need to go back there. I turned the shower on and got in. The water was really relaxing, the warmth of the water calmed me down a little bit. After I blow dryed my hair and changed I took the bus back home. I took the key from my purse and unlocked the door. I burst out crying when I saw the dryed up blood on the floor. The memories come rushing back. I walked up stairs dodging the blood on the ground. I stopped in front of the door to my parents bedroom. I didn't move for several minutes until I got the courage to go in. I pushed the door open and slowly walked in. The drawers to my mothers jewelry box were opened, everything was gone. Nothing was left. I went into the closet they shared, everything was in the same place as they left it. My mom kept boxes of pictures and home videos of us growing up. I pulled one of the large boxes out and took the lid off. The box had tons of tapes with labels on them so she could tell what each one was. The first one I picked up was Christmas 2005 I was eight years old when this was taken. I put the tape in the VCR and started the video. "Merry Christmas!" My dad screamed as he ran to each room waking me and my brother up. My brother and I shot out of bed and ran downstairs to the presents that filed under the tree. We took turns opening the presents from "Santa" my brother knew that Santa was just make believe but he kept it a secret for me. Tears streamed down my face as I saw my parents together watching us open presents and seeing our excited faces when we saw what we got. I couldn't handle it I turned the tv off, taking out the tape. I thought I was ready to come back but I wasn't. It's only been a month since they died, I tried to fight the pain and move on but it was to much to bear. I need my parents back to comfort me and say everything will be okay.