Weak

Chapter Nineteen

I stand there, completely dazed and in shock. Goosebumps texture my skin and a cold chill forces itself down my back. How could this be? Daniel is supposed to be dead. I killed him. Thoughts fill my head. I'm not sure how or why this was happening, but it was. Daniel laughs.

“The little fucker doesn't know what to say.” he taunts me.

“Wha-what?” I manage to slur out. Dad walks in front of me and stares right into my eyes. I look directly into his, wanting to quiver with fear. His dark blue eyes pierce me and bring me physical pain. There's a small, deep scar next to his eye. Other than that, he still looks like Dad.

“He's fucked. The little punk must have gotten into something good. Look at his eyes.” he takes me by the arm. My thin arm nearly breaks with his grip. He's always been larger than me, but it's obvious that he's been getting quite the workout during his prison sentence. He drags me into the house, Daniel follows. I squirm, try to get out of his grip, but it's no use—I don't stand a chance. He throws me against the wall. My vision blurs as my head hits hard against the wall and my body goes limp as a slowly slides to the ground. I moan, and rub my eyes. Dad takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“I'm going take a smoke. Watch them.” he says to Daniel and walks back outside. Daniel posts himself against the back of the sofa; he stares at me hard. He looks like he's so full of rage, but no one can blame him after what I did to him. To think of it, he and I seem pretty similar at the moment. We both looked beat up and we both treated each other wrong. I hated him and I'm pretty sure he hated me. I rub my eyes again and my vision gets better. I'm sobering up pretty quickly now. I look over to my left, and Leslie's sitting there.

“Les-” I say silently, realizing she's crying and sitting in a puddle of blood. “Oh my good-”

I get up and try to move towards her, but Daniel stops me by pushing me back to the ground. “Don't move!” he yells at me. I look over to Leslie and our eyes meet. I can see the fear and sadness in her eyes.

“What the hell is going on here?” I say to Daniel in a stern voice. He looks at me and laughs a bit.

“We're getting even.” Daniel says, walking towards me.

“That's right.” Dad comes in the door. He closes the door and crouches in front of me. “I want to see you suffer, Chase.”

He says to me with a sick grin on his face. I never thought something like this would ever happen. I don't even see how what's going on is logical. Both of them treated me so wrong. Basically, I got even with them. Now, they were together, trying to get their reparations. This just wasn't making sense in my mind. How were my two worst enemies even together?

“How did you two even m-meet?” I stutter. Dad laughs, and stands up.

“Very good question, Chase.” he laughs some more. “Care to tell him Daniel?”

“Kindly, sir.” Daniel walks up to me and gives me a hard punch near my right temple. The life was nearly knocked out of me. “Okay fucker. So, the day you left me for dead in the freezing-cold rain, your dad found me. He helped me. I was so fucking angry with you and so was he. You know how the say an enemy of an enemy is a friend? Well, that's the deal with me and your dad here. We're going to take you down. You're going to get what you deserve.”

Dad opens his jacket and pulls out a gun. He examines his weapon as he speaks.  “Yeah, Chase. I was going to shoot you that day. I'm sure that would have killed your mother. I never wanted to hurt you; just wanted to see her suffer. Then, I realized you were the real reason for me going to jail. You didn't do what I told you to do. Since you couldn't follow directions, I had to pay the price. I'm not going to kill you because that would serve no purpose. I'm going to let you live a very long life, of pain and suffering.”

Dad kicks me in the stomach. I grasp my body in reaction to the pain inflicted from the kick and his solid combat boots. He walks out of the living room, into Jay's office and reappears, dragging my mom by the hair. Her hands and feet are tied together and cloth is tied through her teeth, around her head. She's balling through the rope. I jump up trying to free his hand but he points his gun at me. I back away, with my hands up.

“What are you going to do to her?” I ask.

“I'm going to kill her.” Dad says with a wide grin on his face.

“No!” I scream, but in that instant Dad drops my mother and fires the gun a few inches from her head. I'd seen her grimace with pain as the bullet spiraled through her head, and her brains gushed from her body. I collapse to my knees, and lean over her lifeless body. Tears rush from my eyes and I try to let out a scream, but nothing comes out. I look over to Leslie, she's crying even harder. I look behind me. Dad and Daniel are gone. Mom's blood is all over me. Leslie slowly crawls over to Mom's body. She lightly touches her arm and her teary eyes meet mine. I lean over to cradle her in my arms. Rocking back and forth, her tears soak my sleeve.

“How bad are you hurt?” I whisper through my sobs. Leslie balls some more and covers her hand with her mouth, trying to hold back the loud sobs. She shakes her head, and grasps her stomach. I take out my cell phone and dial 911.

“911, please state your emergency.” the operator on the other end says. I don't say anything at first. I don't know what to say. “Hello?”

“Ye-yes. I-I'm here. “ I say.

“Sir, what's your emergency?” she asked again.

“Th-there's been a murder, a-and m-m-my my friend, she's hurt. I-I need help now.” I manage to blurt out.

“Please tell me your location.” I tell the operator the address.

“OK, authorities have been notified and are on the way. Would you like me to remain on the phone until help arrives?”

“No.” I hang up.

I hold Leslie, tighter in my arms. She's shaking. I can't believe that I got her and Mom involved in all of this. Now my mother is dead—all because of me. I hear the sirens in the distance. I can't stay here. If I say here, I'll be arrested. I kiss Leslie on the forehead.

“I have to go!” I say, getting up from the floor.

“Wh-where are you going?” Leslie looks up at me, confused.

“I just have to go.” I run out through the kitchen, to the back door. I open the door and run. I keep running. I don't know where I'm going or what I'm going to do.