Sunday, October 10, 2010

Fifth Entry

Fifth Entry

December 31, 1998

Yes..It's a gun. Why would she bring a gun here? Why would she want to hurt my dad? He apologized for hitting her husband. He didn't mean to hit him so hard. To be fair the man was trying to steal from us. And on Christmas too. She said she was coming to have someone to talk to, not to kill him. Please don't let him die, he's my dad. Please.

"If you honestly think anyone would forgive you for what you did, you must be dumber than you look." She said to everyone and no one. "I lied to you when you came to the hospital. He's not expected to recover. You hit him so hard you caused him to bleed internally. He's going to die. You took my husband away from me and my little girl. And now I'm going to take you away from your family!"

CLICK. The gun jammed.

As she looked at the gun with wild disbelief, it only took a few seconds from someone standing beside her to tackle her to the ground and kick the gun away from her. It was only a few more minutes before the police arrived, whisked her away, and then started questioning everyone about what had happened. They only asked me To tell the story again of exactly what happened. Then they just moved on to the next person after I told them. I never forgot about that night. Not to this day. And I always wondered...Why did the gun jam? Why does the gun always jam?

May 14, 2005
Three days after my birthday seven years later, something else worth mentioning happened to me. My mom was killed a few months ago in an attempted break in. Or so my dad told me. What he didn't know if that I knew what really happened. How she really died.

My father always had a temper. One wrong word and he'd go up in flames to whoever said it, he always was this way. I remember once he got into a fight with a man for looking at him the wrong way in this local bar. As I remember he had him over the pool table with the cue ball in his hand, beating the man over the head with it.

Flashback
Anyways, my mother was killed in early February. The 9th to be exact. On that day I was supposed to walk down to my friends house and spend the weekend with him. Well I walked the few blocks to his house, while my parents stayed in and watched movies, only when I got there they had already gone somewhere else for the weekend. On the way back home I stopped at the local 7-11 to get some candy or maybe a soda, I can't remember exactly. When I arrived home about thirty minutes later I went to open the front door and heard my parents arguing. I didn't exactly want to just walk in on them screaming at each other.

What was it that time? Money? I think it might have been money. They had been arguing a lot lately, starting after my dad was found with the maid about a year ago. And then his secretary about a year before that. As I started to walk away to go find someone else to hang out with, I heard a loud bang. Not lot gunshot bang, more like someone wooden maybe hitting the tile floor. It kind of startled me but it wasn't completely unusual, things had been thrown before. Yeah that's probably what happened.

"No please Mike, please don't. What about John and Brandon? Are you really going to make them go through this? PLEASE STOP, NOOOOO!" She screamed.

I had to get to her, I had to stop him from doing whatever he was doing. Why wouldn't my legs move?! Why couldn't I go to her rescue like she had done for me all those times? I was frozen with fear at what was happening inside. I could hardly keep down what I had for lunch thinking of what it was she wanted him to stop doing. My dad wasn't a murderer was he? No he probably just hit her. I still had to stop him. Why would he hit my mom? She's been there for him all these years, and even forgiven him for some terrible things. If I got in the way he'd probably just hit me too. I'd better go tell someone.

As I forced myself to stand and walked the two blocks to a good friend of mines house, I asked him to call the police. Since officers in my area usually don't go like the wind to get to domestic disturbance claims, it took them about half an hour to arrive. By then it was already too late.

Thanks for those of you who were so patient over the past few days waiting for this update, I've been really busy  with a few things and dealing with the death in the family wasn't easy. I really do appreciate it guys. The next update should wrap up this particular story, then I should move on to the next one in a few days! Thanks again everyone, and take care.

44 comments:

  1. I don't know how exactly to describe it, but that story was pretty damn interesting to me. I hope I don't get into those kinds of wild situations anytime soon @_@

    ReplyDelete
  2. Keep it up! this is edge of the seat stuff!

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is fantastic, a really intense story.. Keep up the good work, and I hope you're feeling better about your family.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I like it. You definitely have a focus on your writing and it shows

    ReplyDelete
  5. Nice story, keep them up then get them published in a book :)

    ReplyDelete
  6. daaang, you've got hella skill

    ReplyDelete
  7. deep... very well written

    ReplyDelete
  8. not christmas! lol

    ReplyDelete
  9. Great story, keep it up man :)

    ReplyDelete
  10. Write more, I suggest? It seems like you're nicely getting a feel for the direction of it. Keep going!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Col read man. Keep up the good work.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Really loving your writing, keep it up :)

    ReplyDelete
  13. every post is better and better, keep it up

    ReplyDelete
  14. Chills I have them

    ReplyDelete
  15. nice one brah cant wait for moar

    ReplyDelete
  16. oh man im taking notes from you man some good stuff right here. keep it up like a boss!

    ReplyDelete
  17. guns that are not kept properly clean will often jam...

    ReplyDelete
  18. Whose diary is this!? Reminds me of this chick I used to talk to whose half brother shot her half sister in the face. So... when it clicked... it didn't jam...

    ReplyDelete
  19. Oh wow, I thought this was fiction. You have one of those Augusten Burroughs childhoods.

    ReplyDelete
  20. I like your writing style, it was really intense.

    ReplyDelete