My Father My Hero

Genesis

The morning was cold and uninviting. As were all English mornings. It was as though the day was warning against getting up and it took James much will-power to do so. He rose, showered (baths took too long), and put on a mauve shirt complimented by a pair of denim jeans.

As James was leaving his room, a faint buzz was sensed and he turned around. It was the S6 and he picked it up to find that Hannah was calling him. Hannah was the best girlfriend to have and she was all his.

"Hey Han." James responded.
"Hilo. Umm James, could you meet up with me at the bus stop? We need to talk."
"Sure. Bout what?"he asked.
" Just meet me at the bustop." Was the reply.
"Cool. We can talk while we ride to school." He ended the call.

Still pondering on what could be the cause of such an important talk, James cleared the stairs in leap and then decided to check on his Father in the basement.
"Another flight of stairs." He thought, smiling to himself, and leapt once more.

James opened the door slowly and poked his head in. This was the only room in the house James was very rarely in. In fact, he could not remember a time at which he was in the basement. As a kid It scared him and even now he felt a knot in his stomach. Even so, he pushed on. It'd been a while since he'd last seen his father and he might as well say 'hi' before 'Mr Business trips' made another of his name sake.

"...Iraq... A.I....K.I.A."
These were the few words within audible range of the doorway in which James stood. But there was a problem. That was not James's father, Mr Matthews. This voice was louder, Matthews would never speak with so much energy, and more of a soprano contrasting to the clearly serious nature of the topic being discussed.

"Hold on." This was a different voice. More like James' father's. "Hello?" He called out and James knew he had to step out.

"Hey dad." James replied, hairs already standing on end.
Suddenly, the tone in Mr Matthews' voice changed. "How long have you been there? How much have you heard? Why haven't you left for school already?" The questions shot out at incredible speed.
"I-i was h-heading...yh umm I was heading out and I decided to, you know, come say hey." There was fear in his voice.
Mr Matthews reached under the Mahogany centrepiece from which he had been addressing his guest and now his son. There was the faintest bit of resentment in his eyes. "I really do wish you had not." The gun came up. It was a Glock 30S. The ease with which it was brought up hinted much training.

Two shots were fired.