1a

Jake looked up from his computer screen, exhausted. A quick glance at the clock told him in ominous glowing red numbers that it was almost 3 o'clock. "Damn! I should have been asleep hours ago" he muttered to himself as he reached for the power button on his laptop. It was an older model, one he'd gotten a few years ago as a gift for his fifteenth birthday. He shouldn't keep it in his room, too many sleepless nights and poor report cards had proven that. But there it sat, the screen glowing in the dark of his room. Jake held down the power button until the screen went black, then closed the lid and walked to the foot of his bed.

 

Just as he bent down to untie his shoes, he heard something. Or thought he did. Jake wasn't sure if one of his parents was downstairs using the bathroom or if his tired mind was beginning to fail him. The seventeen-year old walked slowly to his door and inched his way into the hall. Jake saw nothing. Burned-out candle in a closet in a cave, pitch black darkness consumed him. Jake knew from experience that there were ten steps from his door to the stairs at the end of the hallway, and he took them slowly and deliberately, carefully setting down his feet after each step. He paused halfway to the stairs. There. He heard the noise clearly now, footsteps downstairs. But they sounded heavy, not like the bare feet of either of his parents.

 

Jake walked to the start of the stairs and sat on the top step. "I've got to get some sleep, I'm acting like a paranoid freaking loon" he thought. And then " It's probably nothing." Just then a hellish commotion came from downstairs; a crash followed by a door slamming and three gunshots. Loud, thunderous shots that that filled Jake's ears. Then came the shouting.

 

"You killed them! Why did you kill them?!"

and another voice "I... I panicked. He had a gun. He was gonna shoot me!"

"Check the rest of the house, we're in it big now. Be quick. Gunshots mean cops!" shouted the first voice.

 

I scrambled back to my room. I had to get out of there. These men killed my parents and I'm sure they would do the same to me. "The closet? Under the bed? Yeah, real smart. That's the first place they'd look. Out the window? It's a helluva drop. did I have enough time?" My mind was racing. Nowhere to hide, the window was far from ideal but it would keep me alive. I slid it open, pushed out the screen and, before I could loose my nerve, I jumped.

 

I landed on my feet. Well, I would have if my legs didn't buckle on impact. An intense pain shot up my legs as I crumpled into a heap in the yard. As I was about to sit up, the front door flew open and one of the men ran full sprint out of my house to a dark sedan parked at the street. I had never been so grateful for my dad's love of gardening, as the bushes he planted were the only thing stopping the streetlight from illuminating my face and giving my position away to my father's killer. The car was parked in the shadow between street lamps, but I could see the man fumble for his keys and open the door before jumping in. He didn't wait for his partner. He just left, leaving a spray of gravel behind him as he went.

 

Effectively concealed behind a bush with a Latin name I could never hope to pronounce, I pulled my cellphone from my pocket and pressed those three magic buttons.

"Kent Police Department, What is your emergency?" said the voice on the other end of the phone. I wonder how they stay so calm.

"My parents. Dead. Killer inside." I stammered. I could barely think straight enough to give the dispatcher my address. I closed the phone and waited in the darkness.  The second man would surely be done searching by now, he'd come out and see that his buddy ditched him. "How long had passed since the shooting, anyway? Three minutes? Five?" It seemed like an eternity dragging on, hiding in those bushes. "What was taking the cops so long? He's gonna get away." I kept thinking "I should go in there, handle him myself. If I could just" Just what? I had no plan, no weapon, and my legs hurt so badly from the fall I wasn't sure I could rush in anywhere. As painful as it was, I would have to wait. "I hate needing help, I hate being weak."

Author's Note

The story switches from third person to first person narrative. I know this and it is intentional. That part comes later.

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Yes I must say the jump in narrative is a touch off putting, but as you said, "all good things come to those who wait", and all that. I like how you share very little about Jake's apperance or as to why he feels so weak, clearly he is an only child or at the very least the only child living at home. I wait for the next installment.

[Demi Rose]

this was good. looking forward to the next chapter.

[Luciole]

This is great. I love how you ended it :) I look forward to reading your next chapter!

[Miss Marie Riorden.]

I like this. It's interesting. It grabs your attention. I seem to be like Jake in the first part haha. Always letting my computer keep me up way longer than need be. Keep writing on this!