To lay there with my eyes closed and hear the loud sounds of the gun shots replaying in my head. I don’t understand why I keep having the same dream but it’s driving me nuts! I just wish it would all stop. I wish I could erase my memory, my memory of that night. The night I became a murderer…
Monday was never my favorite day of the week, nor was Friday. I hated being home where the drama continued. To me school was the only place where I was happy but no one understood why I liked school so much. If only they were in my shoes for 24 hours. I bet they would then understand. I always would count down the hours until the bus drove up to my door step. I thought that the metaphor “home is where the heart is” I haven’t ever believed it but to think that you could be safe in your own home. Not in my case. I am sure with many other teens out in the real world, dying to live a normal life with a loving family and not have to worry about pissing off the wrong person. Sitting in the living room wanting to say they love their parents. Yet it was impossible to without the possibility of getting hit.
Well, this is where the story takes place, in a four bedroom house with a normal sized yard and a normal neighborhood, with normal neighbors, but on the inside of the “normal home” was the cold hard wood floors that could freeze over hell and would change the mood of a happy farmer to the grumpy old man with annoying neighborhood kids throwing rocks at his windows. The conflicts with drugs and alcohol. The mixture of unhappiness and drama with the influences was not a good combination for the 4 kids who were raised in the conditions.
“Garrett!” I felt the tension of a male first punching me between the shoulder blades knocking the breath out of me.
“What?!” I jumped up off of the couch yelling at him out of surprise and pain. It was my older brother Scott. Scott was 24 still living with our parents, he was 6’3” he had brown hair with hazel eye, and looked to weigh about 130 pounds but would be underestimated for his strength and capabilities.
“Jeez calm down skipper!” He said in a sarcastic tone.
“I can’t. I’m just thinking.”
“Well stop. You’re making the house smell like burning toast when you do that.” He replied with a smirk.
“Whatever…” I mumbled under my breath as he walked into the other room.
I walked up the stairs feeling the hardwood floor under my feet as I finally reached the top landing. I remained walking down the hall in silence but stopping in my tracks at the door way of my sister’s bed room. My sister Kara was lying in her bed.
“Hey Garrett. Can you come here please?” she had a really depressed look in her eyes and I began to wonder.
“No, Mom told me something that I am not supposed to tell anyone but I can’t hide it anymore.” She began to tear up and her voice began to crack.
I pulled her into a hug, “What is it?”
She pulled back and looked me in the eyes, “Mom is leaving dad…” She chocked and got silent for a minute.
“Kara, I don’t know what to say besides that things like this happen.”
“Believe me it does..”
“Yes it does! Look it may hurt but you just need to accept it!” I began to raise my voice at her.