Page 2 of In Death, Love Survives
Looking around my bedroom, I try to see if there is anything else I may want downstairs to avoid coming back up in the middle of the movie. I know I’m being lazy, but I have a feeling the indoor fireplace is lit, and my dad has saved me my special couch blanket to get cozy under.
My dad and I pretend to fight over who gets to use it, but every time, he “gives in,” and I do. It’s a hand-knit one that my grandmother made before she passed away. It’s not only the best blanket on the couch but also the most meaningful. Secretly, I know my dad loves that I want to use something of his mom’s too.
As an only child, I’ve always been close to both of my parents. Really, we’ve always done so much together, so hanging out with them on a Friday night isn’t strange.
The transition from hanging out with friends over them has always been odd, even during my adolescence and early teenage years.
They always gave me the freedoms that they thought I needed to grow up without siblings, which is probably why we’ve remained so tight-knit.
I know heading off to college next year is going to be a bit weird for all of us.
It’s one of the reasons I decided to stay close and attend college in Montana rather than going out of state. That, and the out-of-state tuition fees, really helped me make my decision.
My parents would have found a way to pay for any college I wanted to attend, but there’s really no need with the programs available at Montana State. I’m not sure what I want to study yet, but right now, I’m thinking of something in medicine or the sciences.
I’ll have my freshman year to really figure it out.
With a final glance around the room, I remember I left my new Montana State sweatshirt in my parents’ room. My mom gifted it the day after we found out that I had been accepted. They’re both as excited as I am that I got into my first-choice school for my undergraduate degree.
With my stuff in hand, I head to their bedroom.
I set my laptop and cell phone down on their bed as I look around the room for the sweatshirt.
I really can’t believe I haven’t worn it yet. My dad will no doubt make a joke that I’m finally excited to go to Montana State, as if I haven’t been talking about it nonstop and every chance I get.
In actuality, it’s just been a crazy week, and I forgot all about it. Hopefully, my mom doesn’t take that too personally when she sees it. She won’t, but I just hate hurting either of their feelings when they go above and beyond.
A loud banging downstairs distracts me from my search. I glance toward their bedroom door. It’s completely wide-open, giving me the opportunity to see the staircase and part of the first floor.
Trying to make out what’s happening, my eyes slowly adjust as another loud bang sounds.
One of my hands flies over my mouth.
Our front door is slammed inward, with broken pieces all over the ground. I can see the dark night on the opposite side of where the closed door should be.
Suddenly, my brain starts to play catch-up to what I’m witnessing. Loud shouting is happening downstairs, and I don’t recognize the voice I’m hearing.
Everything starts to turn to a hazy fog as I freeze in place with the broken door in my line of sight and screams buzzing in my ears.
A loud gunshot, followed by another and another, goes off. Five shots in total, if I’m processing this correctly.
What is happening?
Oh. My. God.
Someone has broken into our home.
Those were my parents’ screams.
I’m upstairs alone with a murderer downstairs.
As I continue to try and process what I’m hearing and seeing, I stand as still as a statue. Home goods are being thrown around, breaking and smashing as the intruder stalks around the first floor.
I can’t see or hear my parents anymore.
Adrenaline finally kicks in.
I grab my cell phone off the bed and slink into a corner of the room.
