Echoes of Loss
When you turned seven, it was an awesome day. Blowing out the candles, unwrapping presents, and digging into your favorite meal made it perfect. As the night settled, you went to your room with Sadie, the new puppy your aunt gave you. Sadie, a beautiful mix of German Shepherd and Australian Cattle Dog, made the night even more special.
Your mom tucked you into your cozy bed, and Sadie jumped up, settling right by your feet, A few hours later, the sounds of your parents' voices echoed through the house, but it wasn't the usual bickering; it was a distressing scream, filled with pain. Sadie looked up, ears back, sensing something amiss. You slipped out of bed, moving silently.
Peeking around the corner into the living room that's when everything took a turn for the worse, You witnessed your mom tied to a chair from the kitchen, and your father lay unconscious on the floor. Her tear-streaked face and bloodied clothes hinted at the horror unfolding. Confused and terrified, you struggled to comprehend the situation.
Suddenly, a dark figure emerged, approaching your mom with a knife. As he stabbed her abdomen, your scream pierced the air, "MOMMY!" Both your mom and the dark figure turned their attention to you. Blurred by tears, you couldn't see the assailant until he came closer. In a moment of agony, your mom, despite the pain, managed to free herself, grabbed a gun, and, with a deafening shot, the dark figure fell lifeless. A yellow glow surrounded him, signifying the end of the threat right before your eyes.
You ran to your mother, embracing her tightly. When she pulled back, holding your shoulders with tears still in both of your eyes, she uttered words nobody wanted to hear, "Sweetheart, I need you to take this gun and place it in the box on my bed. The key is in this locket." She handed you the locket, which contained a photo of you with your parents.
"Your father and I won't make it. Call this person; he'll take care of you, honey." She handed you a piece of paper with a number on it. "Promise me you'll look after Sadie and never forget us, "Mommy, what are you talking about?" You wiped away your tears, your mom crawled to your father and lay down as she closed her eyes and stopped breathing.
"MOMMY!! No, please, wake up! You have to wake up!" You started crying again, sitting down near your parents, your hands holding each of theirs, all covered in blood, You gently pet your dog, picked up the gun, and made your way to your parents' room. Placing the gun in the box, you locked it up and secured the locket around your neck. Glancing at your mom's room, you went back to your room and began packing your bag. Among your belongings, you chose some of your mom's sweaters and the perfume she wore so often.
You hesitated, reluctant to leave them in such a state. The thought of reaching out to the unfamiliar person your parents knew didn't sit well with you. Why did this have to happen right after your birthday? With a heavy heart, you looked at the lifeless bodies of your parents. You discreetly stashed the box under everything in your bag. As you walked out of your house and sat on the porch, your gaze fell on your father's car. He had mentioned you could have it when you turned sixteen, but you were only seven, far from being able to drive. If you were to call this guy, how could you possibly manage with the car?
You reached into your pocket, retrieved your mom's phone, and dialed the number. You let it ring until a guy's voice became audible on the other end of the line. "Hello?" the guy said. You responded with a quiet, "Hi," your voice barely audible. "Who is this? You don't sound like Y/m/n. That's my mom. She told me to call you before," you said, stopping in your tracks. "Before what? What happened to your mother?" he asked. "This man had killed my parents," you whispered. "Hey kid, I'm so sorry. My name is Bobby. I'll come pick you up," he said. He hung up, leaving you still startled by the events. You found it hard to trust Bobby. You watched every car drive by your house until a green truck pulled into the driveway. An older guy with a mix of gray and brown hair stepped out. Seeing your bloodied hands and pajamas, he instructed you to stay put while he called the cops and checked to ensure you were okay. You asked him about your father's car, and the sorrow in his eyes spoke volumes. Hooking up your dad's car to the back of his truck, he ensured you got into the back seat. He stowed your bag in the trunk and handed you a towel to wipe your hands.
The drive to Bobby's took a few hours, and though you were tired, the idea of sleeping in a man's car whom you barely knew didn't sit well with you. You sat in the backseat with Sadie, silently enduring the journey. When Bobby finally pulled into a driveway, you found yourself in front of a wooden cabin. Bobby got out of the driver's seat, opened the door for you, and went to pop the trunk to retrieve your bag. The two of you then ascended the old, creaky wooden stairs to reach the front door. Bobby unlocked it, and you walked inside, with Bobby closing the door behind him.
Bobby showed you to your room and the bathroom. Taking out some clothes from your bag, you headed to the bathroom for a shower. Meanwhile, Bobby took care of cleaning your dog. after the shower, you walked downstairs to find Sadie peacefully sleeping on the couch, and Bobby busy cooking breakfast. You sat down beside your dog, absentmindedly petting her. Bobby handed you a plate with waffles and bacon, although you didn't feel particularly hungry. Exhaustion and sadness overwhelmed any appetite you might have had. All you wanted to do was cry and sleep, aware that nightmares might haunt you with the memories of what happened to your parents. "Kid, you need to eat," Bobby insisted. "I'm not hungry," you stated, placing the plate on the brown wooden coffee table. You began to walk up the stairs to what you couldn't bring yourself to call your room; your real room was back home in Texas. Sadie faithfully followed you, and Bobby observed you ascending the stairs with a hint of sadness in his eyes. Even at seven, he could sense your stubbornness, knowing it would likely persist as you grew older. You laid in bed, gazing at a photo of your family, and eventually drifted into sleep.
You woke up after a while, realizing it was about two in the afternoon. Not feeling particularly hungry or motivated to get up, you spotted a book on the floor. Picking it up, you discovered a newfound interest in reading. The book was "As I Lay Dying," and you lost yourself in its pages for hours, completely absorbed. As your stomach started to rumble, hunger finally hit you. Bobby came up with some snacks for both you and Sadie, and you enjoyed them slowly from the comfort of your room.
(The end of chapter one)
