The One Downstairs

My Fault?

TW: shooting- I wrote this before mass shootings became a huge problem in the US. I'm sorry if any of you had to go through something traumatic like this. I can only imagine how difficult things must be but please never lose hope and know you can push through your anxiety and things will get better. I wish I had more comforting words to say.

     It's been six months and turns out you were pregnant. You were looking through the pantry of your house to make some pancakes for Shaun. You were all out of chocolate chips, but you had enough time to go buy some since Shaun was at work. Shaun didn't want you driving since the baby could give you random cramps and he was afraid it might cause you to get in an accident. So, you called your friend (F/N) to take you to the grocery store.

     "Why are we going to Whole Foods again?" Your friend asks.

     You smile, "to buy chocolate chips so I can make Shaun's favorite pancakes."

     You were looking for the chocolate chips while (F/N) was looking at the baked goods at the other side of the store. Imagining Shaun's smile when he would get his favorite pancakes made you feel warm inside. When you reached for the right bag, you heard the sound of people running, then gun shots. Startled you dropped the bag and wondered where your friend was. 'What do I do!? Should I try to hide? What if the killer sees me?' You felt your heart speed up, you took deep breaths and placed your arms around your belly. 'What about my baby?' You thought about how Shaun would react if you and the baby died. Tears started to form blurring your vision.

     Footsteps clicked along the floor, someone yelled "I called the police already! You're done for!" You slowly moved to the end of the isle, trying not to make a sound. Your phone went off 'fuck!' You quickly answered it.

     It was (F/N), "(Y/N) where are you!?"

     "Do you know how many people died during a shooting because someone called them, revealing their hiding spot!?"

     "Shit! I'm sorry (Y/N), but where are you?" They ask franticaly. 

     "I'm in the first isle next to the door, you know around the fruit." You whisper.

     "Okay." You quickly hang up the phone.

     You saw someone at the end of the isle, you felt your stomach fall. You slowly turned and saw the shooter. (F/N) was whisper yelling your name, when you didn't answer she hung up. What were you supposed to do? In your condition you couldn't fight. You shoved your phone in your pocket and the shooter walked up to you. 

     He was five feet away and looked at your belly. "Did you want children?" 

     Your stomach turned, "Y-yeah." 

     He lifted the gun and shot your shoulder; you slid down to the floor. "You're a lair." 

     You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, so you held it in. "I'm not a lair."