As I wake up, my head is throbbing. And I must have drooled because my face is wet. As I blink open my eyes, I see that I'm laying on floor in my dad's study. How the hell did I get here? I wipe the drool of my face and see that it's red. What the hell?
Then it all comes crashing back. Anna, my father, a knife, a gun. Anna shot my father. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that it was all a nightmare. I open my eyes, sit up and see that it wasn't. My father is spread out, face down, on the floor next to me. Dead. It's his blood on my face.
One side of my face is covered in my father's blood. Blood that is pouring out of his head. His head that has a bullet in it. A bullet that came from a gun that my girlfriend fired.
I think this is what people mean by someone going into shock after a traumatic experience. I must be in shock. I'm way too calm right.
My girlfriend, who I love more than anything in this world, just murdered my father. There has to be some sort of explanation for this. There is always a reasonable explanation for a guy's girlfriend killing a guy's father. Isn't there?
I think about turning his body over. Better preserve the crime scene. Of course, I've been laying in the middle of it. That can't be good. I really shouldn't be this calm.
I notice that the knife that Anna threw at my father's wrist is gone.
My girlfriend can throw a knife like a ninja.
My girlfriend owns a gun with a silencer.
My girlfriend can knock a guy out in one punch.
My girlfriend sometimes wears a knife strapped to her thigh.
My girlfriend can drive a car like James Bond.
My girlfriend lives by herself at a hotel and I've never seen her parents around.
My girlfriend associates with supposed Russian bodyguards who can afford Lamborghinis
My girlfriend was a virgin who had already been taught sex tricks from a French Madam.
And, oh yeah, my girlfriend is obviously an expert marksman because she shot both my father and his bodyguard in the same exact spots in the head.
Who the hell is my girlfriend? What the hell is she?
I am way too calm right now. I am definitely in shock. Everything feels so unreal. Like it's not really happening. Like I'm watching it happen to someone else.
I am still sitting on the ground next to my father's body. I stand up. I have blood on my clothes. My socks are now soaked in blood.
I turn around in a daze and walk out of my father's study. I make my way through the hallway and down the stairs. I can hear my mother humming. I follow the sound. I find her in the living room, arranging flowers in a vase.
She doesn't turn around from what she's doing, "Yes, honey?"
"Mom!" I shout. I think the shock is starting to wear off.
She turns around and screams, covering her mouth with one hand, "Gabriel! Are you okay? Where are you bleeding?"
She rushes over to me, with a look of motherly panic on her face. I hold my arms out to ward her off. "I'm not bleeding. You need to call the police. Someone shot dad and one of his men." By the time I'm done speaking, my entire body is trembling. It's starting to sink in.
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Killing Me Softly - Teenage Assassin - aka Young Love MurderTeen Fiction
This isn’t a love story, it’s a love adventure. First love’s a killer, but so is seventeen-year-old Annabelle Blanc. She was raised to be an assassin and taught to never fall in love. She’s at the top of her game until she meets Gabriel Sanchez. Tot...