Hey Alana, I'm sorry I keep bothering you, But-
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:16pm
Thread Topic: Hey Alana, I'm sorry I keep bothering you, But-
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"No... no.... no.... no.... No-o-o-o!!!" I sobbed into the door, banging on it as hard as I could with my fists. They barely made it rattle. "Randy!" I screamed. "Randy! Don't do this! No..." I broke down into sobs, sending my body into such violent tremors it was hard to breathe. He couldn't do this. He couldn't...
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I nearly fell into the wall by the stairs. I could see our father, holding some man up with a gun, several bodies strewn across the blood stained carpet. I ducked down behind a lower wall. Out of my sleeve I pulled out a syringe.
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I had given up. Randy misinterpreted everything, but being the obstinate moron he was, he couldn't tell that I was trying to spare his life, not my own. I sulked in the corner, breathing in the musty scent old of cardboard and paper. I wanted to bust out of there, but I barely had the strength to sit up any more.
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I crept behind dad. He spun around at the exact moment I jabbed the needle in his carotid artery. Which flung me into a big glass display window. He stepped into the shelves and fell over, unconscious.
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I sat there, staring into the darkness. Maybe this was how it felt to be dead. Cold and alone in a pit of darkness, wondering if you'll ever get to see the ones you care about ever again.
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A nice doctor stood me up. For the first time I was able to see what a mess our father was. Dark circles under his eyes, his hair dirty and his teeth somewhat rotting. It was... disgusting. He looked massive though. Maybe on teroids or something. Just looking at what he had become made my knees weak.
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I closed my eyes and hummed to myself... All of those songs of prayer we'd been taught in Sunday school ran through my mind. I sang each one at least twice, maybe even three times.
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The world became almost doubled, as I climbed my way back up the stairs. But does Sam ddeserve to see I'm alive? Should she think I'm dead? I brushed the thoughts away and headed for the closet.
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My breathing deepened as I fought the pulls of sleep. Snap out of it. You can't sleep when your brother's probably dead. I wished this was a dream. I longed to be asleep, to wake up the next day to find my family whole once more. No psychotic killing... No rampaging violence... No me... Just no me.
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I fell into the wall and pulled opened the door. "S-s... -aham." I stuttered.
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I looked up, seeing Randy's face with a bunch of flooding light. I just stared, not able to say anything. It was my fault, everything was. If he'd just let me die... If only he had.
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"C'mon, Sis. Let's get... you out of here." The shards of glass in my limbs made me feel numb, almost. I lifted Sam up, using neaarly all my strength. Which it was less like lifting, more like dragging.
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I coughed. "What happened? You're bleeding." Nice words. That's gonna fix absolutely... NOTHING.
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"Life happened. My life." I managed to say aloud. "We're gonna go home, okay?"
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"Mmhmm."
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