Pandemic A

3- School Night

A light sound of jiggling woke me.

Keys.

I saw it was my parents by peering out of the curtains above me. Quickly, I shoved the gun under the pillow.

There was a massive feeling of relief that surged through me, like the cooped up air of anxiety and nerves swelling into a balloon somewhere between my heart and my stomach, and bursting when I saw them.

Once inside the white door, my mother shuffled me up against the arm of the couch, and my dad quickly locked the door behind him.

The room was longer than wide, with the door on one side of the room and the small fireplace on the other. Next to the fireplace was the archway that led to the kitchen.

Between the door and the fireplae was a small couch running up one side, with the computer desk beside it, on the other wall was the TV that sat on top of the bookshelves. Just next to the bookshelf was a little armchair that after just a few hours became very uncomfortable. That's where my father sat, relieving what appeared to be quite a bit of stress in his feet.

Judging by the light outside it was probably right after midnight, but it could have been earlier or later.

"You okay, Sharon?"

"Larry... Never do that again."

"What did he do?" I said, confused at what had happened. My dad, Larry, with the same chestnut hair and body type as I had was red in the face as he took off his yellow hoodie to reveal his Docent T-shirt.

"Look, son, all I did was defend myself and your mothe-"

"Shut up." My mom snapped.

Her soft sea blue eyes radiated annoyance with her soft facial features. She had redder hair then her husband, with streaks of faded colors here and there. She was slightly taller, and definitely ran the relationship. My dad loved her too much to argue.

"Mom, Dad, what's going on outside?"

"Nothing." They said in unison.

"Bullshit."

"Language!"

"Mom, you talk like a sailor. You can't argue."

"Fair enough."

"Dad, I heard gunshots. What's going on."

My dad sighed and ran his right hand through his graying hair. I had a rare sighting of old lines on his wrist. Whenever I'd ask what they were he'd only reply with "Cat scratches", but I had figured it out.

"There was a riot, Allen. Who knows why? Probably somebody blew their lid about Anders Corp's prices. They trashed a few stores and lit a couple of fires. You get it. You've seen worse riots," he chuckled, referring to a trip he and I took to Los Angeles right after the Public Tear Gassings on unsuspecting college dorms under suspicion of possession, when the whole city was ripped appart. Mom was pissed when we got home.

"Nothing serious. Cops shut it all down after a few hours. I mean... It was bad, but not that bad. This one guy, I think he was high, cornered us so I took a bottl-"

"LARRY!"

"Right."

"Look, Allen, it's like... One in the morning and a school night, my God! Get off to bed!"

She said as she laid down on the couch. Her head touched the pillow and as I was about to walk away when I saw her pull the gun from under the pillow.

And nod.

A/N just one comment for more. I need to know that someone's even remotely interested.