The Runaway

The Runaway Ch.8

I already had this written so i thought i would post it too.

     I bolted upright on the mattress and clenched my teeth together. My ankle had woken me up in the middle of the night in a cry of pain. The cut pulsated, and it burned like it was on fire. I gave out an involuntary cry of pain, and Devon woke up. He looked at me in horror.

“What’s the matter?” he asked frantic.

“My ankle…. Is…….burning!” I whimpered between gasps. He looked at my ankle and was shocked. I hadn’t looked at it, and when I did I wish that I hadn’t. The skin around the 3 ½ inch cut was black, and a steady stream of blood and puss seeped out.

     I looked away quick and focused on other thoughts to clear my mind of the pain. Tears escaped my closed eyes. Something soft touched my ankle. I looked and saw that Devon had taken off his shirt and was using it to mop up the mess. He held it against my ankle, and I winced.

“I’m sorry, but if there was anything that I learned from that stupid baby sitters course, it was how to treat a cut. I gotta stop the bleeding.” He explained.

     By then my parents had woken up and walked over. They saw the scene and shuddered. My mom bent near me and grabbed my hand. I squeezed her hand, trying to take the pain away, although I felt bad that it was white with the lack of blood circulation. My dad, having always been afraid and disgusted by blood, ran to the corner and threw up. A few minutes later the blood stopped. The pain was still very much there, though.

     Devon, furious, stood up and stormed over to the camera.

“Are you going to take her now?” he yelled with malice in his voice.

The squeak sounded and the man’s tired voice came on.

“Fine, I’ll take her. But you have to do something for me.” He said. Slurring his words.

“Anything that will saver her” he said, his voice hard.

“While she is in the hospital, I need you to take care of the killing for me. I don’t know how long she will be there.”

“Let me see her everyday.” Devon demanded no emotion in his voice.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because she needs people that love her around. It will make her better faster.”

     The man chuckled, and finally answered.

“Fine, on hour a day that she is in the hospital.”

 The squeak sounded and his voice was gone.

     Devon was still pacing the floor a half hour later. The anger had slowly started to leave, and tired swept over his face. He finally walked over and collapsed on the mattress and fell asleep. Having nothing better to do I tried, but couldn’t because my ankle hurt too much.

     Another painful hour later I heard the familiar spray of pebbles and car door slam. The door jiggled and opened. The man stood there and lazily walked in. He looked extremely tired, and smelled like alcohol. He trudged over and slapped me, hard. I fell back and screamed. He laughed and picked me up by my hair. Devon ran over and shoved him, but he didn’t do much because he hadn’t eaten anything in a while. The man stood up quickly, and pulled a gun on Devon. Devon slowly raised his hands and backed away.

“Well, I’ve wanted to kill you for a while now, so I guess that’s a pretty good excuse.” The man slurred.

     He smiled and pulled the trigger. I screamed, my mom covered her eyes, but my dad ran for Devon and pushed him out of the way. Devon fell back, but my dad got hit in the chest. Automatically  crimson red, sticky blood oozed out on his dirty shirt. My dad collapsed back onto the filthy ground.

     I snapped, couldn’t take it anymore. I charged the man before he could get the gun ready. I kicked him in the crotch and he fell to his knees. I kicked the gun away and punched him in the nose. I heard the successful sound of his nose breaking. My hand stung, but I didn’t care. I used all my strength and kicked him in the stomach.

     After that his eyes closed and he went limp. He was knocked out. I sighed and ran over to my dad. He was gasping and clutching my mom’s hand. His other hand was holding his chest were the bullet entered. I started crying and fell to my knees at his side. Devon was still lying on the ground, to shocked to move.

“I……love…..you” my dad gasped to my mom. She was sobbing and stroking his head. My dad turned to me.

“I’m….” he couldn’t get the words out. He coughed and blood splattered out. He tried again, talking fast.

“I’m so proud of you. Be strong for your mom. Go to college, get married, have kids. But remind them of their grandfather. I love you so much, and don’t ever give up your dreams.” He gasped and waved Devon over.

     Devon crawled over and leaned down so that his ear was right next to his mouth. My dad whispered something to him and Devon nodded. He backed away. A couple tears escaped my dad’s eyes before he took one final raspy gasp and closed his eyes. He went limp and his chest didn’t rise again. I sobbed harder and buried my head in Devon’s chest, trying to will the pain away that would never cease.

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