Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language and violence.
Im back with the rewritten chapter two that will probably leave you more annoyed than anything. No questions will be answered in this chapter. In fact you'll probably have more questions at the end of this chapter. Review and criticism are much appreciated. Enjoy :)
I was awoken that night by shouting and sirens.
What’s going on? I wondered as I groggily walked over to my window. I peered out at the scene and at first all I saw was red and blue lights.
Why the hell is there blinding lights outside of our house? was my first thought. My second thought came after a few seconds, when my brain began working.
Red and blue lights equals cops.
The real question was, what are the cops doing here?
Moments later, I saw my mum walk into view. My confusion grew, and with it came far too many questions—where’s my dad? What’s my mum doing down there? Most importantly, what happened?
My mum’s the quietest person ever to walk this earth. She never would harm a soul. The woman's a pacifist, for God’s sake. Why would the cops be talking to her?
Maybe it was about Dad. Yes, that must be it. I could picture it now—Dad got into a fight with someone once again, probably for a stupid reason. He was on his last strike here for two fights he had been engaged in, one with a fellow officer, and the other with an old mate charged with theft.
My dad was a serial hothead; to be honest, I’m not even sure how he passed the psych test police officers take before being accepting into the force.
My mum always said her and Dad balanced each other out. I thought, since she was something of a saint to me, that he must have some kindness deep within his heart for my mum to have ever dated—much the less married—him.
Before becoming an officer, Dad had worked as various things, both legal and illegal. He was not proud of the illegal ones; he said he was just lucky he never got caught. In all his previous jobs, he had been sacked, and though the reasons varied in name they all had to do with the same problem—violence.
So that’s what must have happened. He must have gotten fired after doing something stupid, and was now probably sitting in a jail cell.
I had just come to this conclusion when I saw a man appear from the dark depths of the cop car, his red hair unmistakably familiar. My dad. It couldn’t be anyone else.
I moved away from the window and contemplated my next move. Should I go back to bed to wait for morning and just dismiss this whole event, or I could go outside to investigate and find out what the hell is going on?
Curiosity got the better of me and I chose the latter.
I crept quietly out the door and made my way slowly down the stairs, careful I created as little sound as possible. I know this may seem weird, but with all the bizarre things going on outside, I thought it best to be cautious.
I finally got down to the bottom of the steps and stopped to calm myself. I couldn’t just run out there yelling and screaming. I mean, what happens if it turns out to be nothing but a going away party for my dad or something like that?
In my head, I went through my exact plan of what I was going to do. I was going to quietly open the front door, then I was going to pretend that I had come out because I was startled by the noise and lights. This sounded almost exactly like what I was doing, anyway, so it wasn’t as if I was really lying.
“Right. Here we go,” I said to myself.
Hesitantly, I took a step forward. There—I could do this.
After a few deep breaths, I was just about to take another step when I heard a sound that scared the absolute crap out of me: A gunshot.
Immediately, I abandoned all thoughts of my plan or finding out what was going on. The only thing I was thinking about was getting back to my bed and going to sleep.
“This is not happening, this is not happening,” I kept telling myself over and over as I hurried back up the stairs, panicked and terrified.
After what seemed like hours (but in reality, was just minutes), I returned to my bed.
There I lie on the last normal day of my life, trying to piece together what was happening.
A shot was fired. What the hell is going on? Did Dad get into another fight? Worse yet, was he the one to pull the trigger? All these thoughts were swirling around my mind.
As long as Mum is all right . . . as long as she wasn’t hurt . . . it’ll be fine.
What will happen next, who just got shot, why were the police at the house.
All will be answered in the next chapter.