A Little More TimeA Story by Imara A father is faced with a choice. Does he sacrifice himself and his daughter to save the people of the world or does he die along with the rest of the world and get just a little more time with her? A simple kitchen. His kitchen. It still smelled like the egg sandwiches he had made that morning for him and his daughter. Now the tle was filled with broken glass from a shattered window, the table was shot full of holes like swiss cheese, overturned broken in the corner of the room and three big burly men, with guns trained on him. Faces covered not because they were wearing masks but because his right eye was swelling shut and the other was blurred by tears. The man in the middle held a black twisted piece of metal to his daughters temple. She was half crumpled on the floor. Her midnight skin dripping in salty sweat and tears. A million and six pin sized braids hung from her head down to her back, big doe eyes begging for only one thing. To live for one more day, just a little bit longer. No one smiled. There was no joy in such tension. Such cruelty cannot bring even the most evil joy. “Please,” Said the man with the gun to his daughters head, “Don’t make this hard on yourself. She doesn’t have to die. Just turn on the satellite, we’ll take care of everything else.” “I can’t do that.” “You can, we know you can. Just turn the damn thing on.” The armed man made it all sound so simple. That with a simple flip of a switch he could turn on what can only be described as a real life death ray and then this would all be over. He would have lunch afterward with his daughter, not here of course in the bullet filled kitchen, but down the street at their favorite coffee shop. “Daddy please.” Said the girl. But what if these terrorists were caught after he turned it on. He would be fired, dishonored and thrown in jail. He might as well be dead then and same to his daughter who would be in foster care. “We’re not f*****g around man, turn it on or we’ll f*****g kill her.” Said the man to the right of his little girl. If the organization for whom these men worked succeeded then they would be dead anyways. Everyone would be. But at least he would have a few more weeks with her. Just a little bit more time. A click. A boom. A scream. Blood. He leapt for his pride and joy so that he could hold her like when she was five and, wof the boogey man and only he could make the evil go away. But his arms weren’t greeted by his child, instead a boot welcomed his face and pushed him back onto the floor. For a second the room spun and he wasn’t sure that he could get up. But he did and called out his daughters name. His right eyes was now completely blind but through his good eye he saw that the men had only shot her in the leg. She lived. Through sobs, gritted teeth, and tears she replied, “Dad?” “Don’t worry baby we’re going to get through this.” The girl nodded. He would would protect her just like he had from the boogey man and the thief who tried to mug her on their vacation. “Of course you can get through this, as long as you turn on the satellite.” “Dad.” Said the child. She swallowed a hard and dry, “Don’t do it. If you do millions will die. We’re not worth it. I love you. Please.” The father knew this. But all those who would be saved by their sacrifice were not his little girl. They would not be the sweet daughter who would be going on summer break in a few weeks and turning thirteen a month after that. Old enough to wear a two piece at the local pool. “I am getting impatient doctor.” “Daddy no.” There were only three men in the world who knew how to turn it on. These terrorist may have already killed them or maybe another would turn on the satellite making his sacrifice worthless. His daughter had so much left to do. She wasn’t in high school, yet to recieve her first F in a class and struggle to bring it up, yet to get a boyfriend and allow her father to scare him away. They had yet to fight over the rules and bedtime. She had yet to go to college, have her heart broken, get a job, fall in love see the world and give him grandchildren. The father cried. He had planned to take her to Disney this summer, and build her a tree house to play in with her friend and teach her how to make a robot. He could fit in all that within a few weeks. That’s all he needed. Just a little more time to be with her. That’s how long it would take these terrorists to kill all the people in the world who were part of their cult. “Alright. Go get my laptop from my bedroom.” One henchman left and soon returned with the slick piece of technology. The cold hunk of plastic and hardware was dropped into his lap. “No dad.” She cried with what little strength she had let. The tile floor was painted in all the blood that her dress hadn't soaked up. “I love you.” He said eyes begging for forgiveness as the machine hummed to life. Several clicks and pass codes later he sighed. “Done.” “Thanks.” Click Bang. “Daddy!” She screamed trying to pull her crippled body to her father. “What do we do about the girl?” “She’ll bleed out in another minute or so. Let’s go.” © 2013 ImaraAuthor's Note
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ImaraCranston, RIAboutMy Name is Imara, if you couldn't already tell, I'm currently in High school and completly unsure what to do with my life. I've been to a few places in America, which I try to incorporate into my writ.. more..Writing
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