Twisted Realities

Story One

   I woke to the sound of a loud crash. I bolt up startled. Looking at the time, my mind debated on skipping and sleeping longer or suffering through the day. Before I could decide, I heard my best friends' mother call out:

"Rosalyn Marietta! Up! Now! You'll be late again!"

  Sighing as I stand and stretch, my back popping satisfyingly. Grumbling about being awake, I begrudgingly get dressed. As I pull on my black tights, grey sweater dress, and combat boots, I hear the pattering of rain and low rumbles of thunder. Smiling as I realize it's my kinda day. The kinda day that I can cancel everything and cuddle up inside with a book or steamy fanfics.

   I hesitate on grabbing my umbrella, thinking I'd okay. Nonetheless, I grab it and head to my car. I drive to school singing along my rainy day/ book reading playlist. Pulling into my parking spot at school. I turn my car off and sit and just watch the rain fall. Walking into the school, I reflected on how boring today would be...

That is, until I the gunshots.

   Quickly, I rush for shelter inside a stall in the nearest girl's bathroom. Terrified, I sit on the sink in the stall and cover my ears, trying desperately to muffle the new rounds of shots and fresh screams. My heart is racing. My breathing is uneven and labored. I'm starting to panic when my phone chimes. My best friend, who was already in first period, is texting to make sure I'm safe. Shakily, I texted back that I'm safe and hiding. She replies, asking if I'm okay. Immediately, I know why she's asking that.Suddenly, I'm no longer huddling on a bathroom sink during a shooting, but I'm five years old again, reliving my parents' death.

***

It was the day before my sixth birthday. I remember it as if it were yesterday. The memory is a vivid one. We were at the park. I can still feel the warmth of the sun on my smiling face. I can still smell the nice, dewy air. It was a nice day. I was playing with my parents at the swings. My mother, a beautiful blonde, was on the swing next to me laughing as my father, a handsome kind brunette, pushed us. It was perfect...

Until it wasn't....

Suddenly, there were no longer screams of joy and laughter but screams of fear and gun shots. A bullet that would've snuffed out my life raced towards me, but my mother took it. It hit her it the chest. My father raced towards the shooter, a crazy, drunk addict. With a deafening bang, my father's life too was snuffed out. The shooter killed himself as the police pulled up.

The air was thick with the scent of blood, sadness, anger, fear, and loss. I will never forget that day. I was now ingrained in my soul.

Gasping for air, I feel strangely calm. Shots are still being fired. I have the gut feeling that it was my time to go. I texted my best friend, telling her goodbye, and walked into the crossfire. As a bullet hits my chest, I feel nothing. I don't scream or cry. I just fall and close my eyes as I'm welcomed by my parents into heaven.