Josh:
I hear him screaming like white trash television stations.
His black combat boots pacing the hardwood floors like he's going to fight the noble war.
"Josh!" I hear his deep voice call from the living room.
I quickly make my way over to him.
Don't make him mad,
Don't make him mad,
Don't make him mad.
Please, god help me.
He wraps his hand around my throat and pushes me to the nearest wall. Eyes locking, throat burning.
"Where is my gun, boy?" His teeth clenching, sharp like razors.
Anxiety ran through me as I thought about what I did with it earlier.
" I put it in its case, sir. It's in the bedroom."
He smacks me with the palm of his free hand, before pulling out his silver revolver from his pants holster putting the barrel to the corner of my mouth.
He clips the extractor switching the center pin, pushing the tip slightly into my teeth. The metallic taste staining my mouth.
He moves the gun to my temple, getting really close to me, gripping harder onto my throat.
I could barely breathe.
"I don't care what you say; if you ever touch him again, I will freakin' kill you. I'm gonna pull out the goddamn shotgun and blow your damn head off. Do you understand? You little worthless piece of crap!"
I nod my head, mentally trying to escape.
Tyler brings his hand holding the gun back before landing it down on my cheek bone. He lets go of me as I fall down to the floor. I could barely react as I looked up at him, I felt so numb.
Yeah, my baby has a baby but it's not me, it's an AK-47 semi automatic and he loves him more than he loves me.
