Page 122 of Under Your Scars
“Do you really think I want your money?” He begins to cry. “I want my wife and kids back.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir,” daddy says calmly. “But I can’t help you with that, either. Please leave us alone.”
“You have no idea who I am, do you?” he asks, and then shakes his head. “You deserve this, Thomas.”
And then I hear a loud ‘pop’, followed by mommy screaming.
And then I hear another ‘pop’, and then silence, before my parents fall to the ground.
I drop my to-go bag. “Mommy. Daddy?”
Daddy is looking up at the dark sky. I’ve never seen him look so…blank. Mommy is crying. Shaking. Bleeding. They’re both bleeding.
The man with the bandana takes three large steps towards me, and then he points the gun at my head. It shakes in his hand, and I simply stare up at him and sniffle. He takes a shaky breath and then lowers the gun before turning and running away.
I kneel next to mommy. Warm, red, sticky blood coats my jeans. I lay my head on her chest and listen to her weak heartbeat, until there isn’t one.
I glance at daddy’s watch. His favorite. Gold face. Navy blue leather strap. It says it’s 9:21 PM.
I don’t know how long I sit there in a puddle of my parents’ blood. It feels like forever. I look at mommy and place my left hand over her heart. She’s not moving.
I don’t know why, but I use the same hand to close her eyes. Her warm sticky blood smears across her eyelids from my hands.
Five policemen show up and stare at me, sitting on the dirty concrete in between my parents. One of them kneels down a few steps away. “Hi, kid. I’m Officer Harold Fischer. What’s your name?”
“Christian,” I say politely. Mommy says I should always be nice to a policeman.
“Do you know your last name, Christian?”
“Reeves.”
The policemen all share a look with each other, and then the one kneeling holds out his arms and waves for me to come closer. “Come here, Christian. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
I blink at him, unmoving. “Are you going to help mommy and daddy?”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice strained. He points up at the sky. “Hear those sirens? Ambulances are coming to help them. Come on.” He waves again. “Have you ever been in a police car before?”
I shake my head.
“Do you want to sit in mine? I’ll let you turn on the sirens!” he taunts excitedly. I finally stand up and reach into my pocket and pull out the orange lollipop with my bloody left hand.
“Can I eat this in the police car?”
Officer Fischer nods. “Whatever you want, kid.”
Next thing I know, I’m sitting in his police car, playing with the sirens and lights. And then I’m at the police station, petting a German Shepard named Lucy with a K-9 vest on.
Then Edwin’s there, and I look up at him.
“Edwin, when are mommy and daddy coming back?”
CHAPTER 35
THE SILENCER
The memory hits me like a truck, knocking all the wind out of me. It takes my sanity and rationale with it, if there was any left to take. I rise out of the rocking chair to my full height, breathing fire like a dragon as I snatch the gun from the table between us, and shove it under Elliot’s chin.
My molars feel like they’re going to crack under the pressure of my jaw as I stare Elliot down. I wait. I wait and wait and wait for him to say something. Anything. To defend himself. To beg for his life. But all he does is scowl, his dead eyes staring back at me.
