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Imagine you and Travis try to go find Chris. Once you finally found the boy you thought you loved, you couldn't believe what you were looking at.
" Chris please put the gun down." You tell him as he points the gun closer to his father; as he holds onto a scared little boy.
" I can't go back there; they look at me like I'm disgusting." Chris tells you as he still points the gun at his father. " We can leave. We don't have to go back there." Travis tells his son but Chris doesn't budge. " Yeah Chris; I will go with you both, I mean- if that's what you want." You tell him as he then lowers the gun and lets go of the boy. You then watch the boy run to his dad and hug him tight.
" You promise?" Chris asks as you nod and force a smile to your face. " Yeah just us against the world." You tell him as you put your hand out to take the gun from him but he then charges at you.
You watch Chris pull you on top of his shoulder, and runs out of the house before tossing you to the hard dirt floor.
" Your lying! Both of you!" Chris yells as he points the gun now at your head. You were in so much pain, you most likely sprained your arm. " Chris please put the gun down." Travis tells his son but he doesn't listen. You then watch Travis hit his gun out of his sons hand and force him to the floor.
You then slowly get up and grab the gun. You then watch Travis try to hold his son to the floor as you watch Chris trying to stab his dad with a knife.
You then took the gun off safety, and reloaded the gun. This made Travis and Chris look over to you as you aimed it at both of them. " Chris put the fucking knife down, or I swear I'll shoot." You spat at him. You watch him then drop the knife and watch Travis quickly grab it before backing away from his son.
" Clearly you both have fucking issues; so I'm not joining you. I'm heading back, here Travis." You tell them both as you put the gun on safety and granny toss the gun to Travis.
You then looked at your boyfriend in disgust. " Goodbye Chris." I say before turning around and walking back.
