Each And Every Step

chapter four

My muscles were frozen, I couldn't do anything, not that there was any part of me that wanted to. Everything in me told me I was dead if I even moved a fraction of a millimeter. I held my breath, and if the gun wasn't going to be the one that killed me, it would have been myself. I heard some more angered murmurs from the front of the store before I heard the gun go off. I thought that was it. The man I had talked to only a few minutes prior, was dead. The man that gave me the food that I could've taken and gotten out of here, was gone. I had so many chances for that not to happen, and yet I was here. "Please sir, please, you can't do this to me, you couldn't do this to a person, could you?! I have a family, I bet you do you, imagine you came home and- ". His words were cut off, and though I thought that he was already gone, this was only worse. I could hear the life come out of his body; his words ripped away from his soul. My only emotion shock, but I couldn't feel that at all. It felt as if all the organs in my body were gone, and my stomach dropped below the earth. How could anyone even do that to someone, the man seemed so kind.

When I recovered my ability to move, my eyes went to the hallway, the hallway I had come out of without even having a clue what would happen. But worse, there was blood splattered across the floor, leading into the back room. The same red I had seen before. I didn't know what to do. Though I could move my head, nothing else in my body could move. But I knew I had to; I had to get out of there. There was a door out the back, but there was no chance I was getting out quietly. I had to stay inside and hide, but there wasn't anywhere to go. Except one place. I didn't think I would fit, at least not easily, but I had to try. It was that or I was dead.

As I picked my body up off the couch, everything I did I felt I was more dead than the previous. I felt I knew that the person who had shot Mark, knew I was back here. That they were just waiting for me to hide, and they would come in and shoot me. As I got down to the floor, and my ear was against the floorboards, I could hear their footprints in the other room. There was a part of me that wanted to stay there and listen. It was like I was listening to an audio book. Lately, nothing scared me. I knew I'd always be fine, but this time was different. I knew I could die, but I still had that part of me stay that same. It was normal for me to really not care if I was hurt, because I would get over it. But I couldn't get over this. I couldn't let this be the way I go, and like I promised, I would find Oatmeal. I could hear the footprints get louder, and when it hit me, it hit me like a rock, and I pushed myself under the couch. It was a small space as I had figured, but I could barely breathe, almost not at all. Maybe it all worked in my favor, but God did I need to breathe.

I could feel the essence when the killer walked in. I could smell the weed he had obviously smoked from 100 miles away. I could hear myself shaking, but I hoped he couldn't. "Man, get in here I need a double checker!" The killer dictated. My eyes widened. Not that it really would have made it any better, but I thought there was only one person. Only one person I had to hate. One person I had to fear. What did they even want, did they kill that man for the fun of it! That was it for me, a tear rolled down my cheek. And when they started, they didn't stop. I wasn't all that worried about it, I'd known how to cry without making noise forever, but these tears were different. I didn't think I was crying all that much, maybe a few tears, but no. They piled on top of each other, to the point where they didn't just fall to my chin, they fell to the floor. The sound they made wasn't much, but with how much there was, it turned into more like a puddle. And it didn't stop. It turned into a lake, and it wouldn't be long until they saw it. I didn't know what to think, everything I thought I knew about finding Oatmeal was turned around. I never thought I'd be fearing for my life. I never thought anyone but myself would be the one to blame for my life ending this short.

I could see the gun in the first man's fist, and not being able to breathe was starting to get to me, at this point, I had so much to worry about all I could do was sit there and hope they left. "Okay I'm coming! Yo, check that couch, I used to find five-dollar bills in my parent's sofas, you could find something good in there!" the second Man insisted. "Oh, yeah, good idea!" The man with the gun remarked. Whatever was left in my body was now gone, I was dead, before I would be found, I'd be gone, I'd be dead. I wouldn't ever be able to find Oatmeal, wherever he was, he would stay there, because I wasn't coming to find him. As the man with the gun started to walk over to where I was, my heart, which was surprisingly still in my body, felt like it jumped to the speed of light. Beating faster than time itself. Before he got there, the puddle of my tears had slowly slid out from under the couch, and with my tears only fueling it more, it kept going farther out. When he got there, he just happened to step in it.