Southern Gothic // Joshler

2. Rifle

The eyes were still on Tyler as he walked home that afternoon, the elderly staring holes into his back as he briskly walked amongst the suffocating fall air. It was cold outside, yet he was sweating. He could swear he was hearing voices as he took each step, the neighbors communicating among themselves.

Hurrying up his driveway, Tyler opened his door and calmed a bit as he closed the door behind him after stepping in. His brothers were in front of the fireplace, which was now lit again, casting a warm shadow over the room. His mother was sitting on the couch, her feet pulled up beside her as she read to Madison.

"I'm home, Mom," Tyler said quietly as he hung his key on the hook next to the door. Her presence was less threatening than it had been in the morning, and he didn't want to question why.

"Tyler! Welcome home," His mother smiled at him, looking up from the children's book she was holding. Madison, who was on the floor, waved to Tyler happily.

"Hey, Mads," Tyler said as he sat down next to his young sister. She was only 3, and wasn't much for speaking.

"Where's dad?" He asked innocently. It was past 4, his father should've been home by now. He left early in the mornings to go work at the town's power plant and was always home by the time Tyler got off school.

The room fell into a hushed silence. The only noise that was made was the crackling of the fire place. "He went over to Brendon's house, to go talk to his father."

Tyler looked up at his mother, then over to the mantle. The pegs where the house's rifle sat was empty. "No," He said quietly, panic in his voice.

"It's okay, Tyler, he'll be back soon," She assured him.

"No, it's not- Brendon said there were more bones this morning, he can't go over there-"

"He's been over there for an hour, Tyler." His mother interrupted, her voice growing stern. She sat up and closed the book to look at him directly.

Tyler stood up, bolting over to the door. "I have to go find him-"

"Just what do you think you're doing?" She asked, standing up as well. "You cannot go over there, Tyler!"

"It isn't safe for him!" Tyler shouted, grabbing his jacket.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" She responded, marching up to him and grabbing his arm. "You have no idea what you're talking about. Get these silly ideas out of your head. They live by the forest. Of course there's going to be bones. Animals live in the woods, Tyler. Animals die. They decompose. There's going to be carcasses. What are you even thinking? You can't just go interrupt their conversation."

"Then why did he take a gun?" Tyler hissed, ripping his arm away from his mother and opening the door. He grabbed his key and threw open the door. "I have to go find him. He isn't safe."

"Isn't safe? He's a grown man, Tyler. You're a teenager, and quite frankly-" She hesitated for a moment, "You're being dramatic."

"No I'm not." Tyler snapped, giving her an angry face before stepping out and slamming the door behind him.

His feet took off down the sidewalk and into the street, ignoring his mother's voice that was calling to him from their doorway. He felt eyes on him as he ran down the road, knowing that he was fully standing out now, but it didn't matter. He had to go find his father lest he went into the forest. The only noise was Tyler's sneakers making contact with the tarmac of the road. There were no bird chirps, no whispers, no cars.

The crows that were there in the morning were gone, Tyler noticed, as he passed the school and ran towards Brendon's house. The boys were never over each other's houses very much, for the sole reason of not wishing to be out when dusk fell, but Tyler had been over there enough times to remember the route. It was four blocks down from the high school, and he took a left onto the street that would shortcut through those blocks.