Never Gonna Forget- Paul Lahote Love Story (Under Revision)

Chapter 34- Realization

Once the light disappears a few minutes later, I open my eyes and find myself in an all too familiar bedroom, the one that I had on the day that still haunts me.I notice that my eyes are seeing through my eight year old self, as they scan my childhood bedroom, seeing the door open a crack as the hallway light streams through the darkness. My ears pick up the sounds of arguing from outside my door, close to the stairs leading downstairs and I feel myself rising from my bed, quietly creeping towards the light so that I can make out the conversation, being my curious self. If only I knew the saying that curiousity killed thecat was true.

"I'm leaving and I'mtaking Jaclyn with me. I can't handle the way you treat us anymore,it just isn't right."My mother's sweet voice carries throughout the hallway as she stands close to the stairs leading downstairs, my father blocking her way of trying to rescue me to take us away to asafe place that she told me about. My father's back is towards me,even though I can't see his expression, I know that he's angry.

"You and that ungrateful brat aren't going anywhere. I'll foce you to stay if I have to."He snaps at her and even though she stands tall, I know she's just as afraid of him as I have always been. Her face is in a deep scowl at him for calling me a rude name.

"Force? How will you force us to stay?" Mom demands. I see my father reach for something attached to his right side, but I can't clearly see it.

"With this." He retorts and pulls out what I couldn't see before as I see a flash of silver go across my vision.

My blood runs cold and my mother's body freezes as the monster in front of us pulls out a .45mil trigger handgun. A shiver goes up the spine of my younger self out of fear,but the shiver I feel is from the fact that it is the same gun that would be used on me in the future years to come. As I fear for my mother's life, I slide out of my bedroom doorway, my white and teddy bear nightgown swaying by my feet as my hands tightly clench onto the dark-silver, stuffed wolf that I've had since bith,appearing within my mother's eye sight, which only causes her eyes to widen briefly when she spots me. As I look into her eyes, her very soul screams for me to run and hide, or to run away even and not watch what could happen.

"You don't have to do this. You can just let us go."My mother tries to reason with him,but I can tell he won't budge on the matter at all.

"I wouldn't have to if you would just listen like you are suppose to. I mean if I can't have you both, no one will."He growls back at her and I know that he is glaring at her, his hands clenching tightly as his index finger wraps around the trigger of the gun. My mother takes a step forwards,trying to act brave, testing his words and my eyes widen.

BANG

The bullet speeds towards my mother,but it's as though it's happening in slow motion, like in the movies, except this isn't the movies and I can't will myself to save my mother like I always wished I could. I remember growing up that this particular memory, my child-like memory couldn't handle the trauma of my mother's murder so it used the repression defense mechanism, making the memory be place at the back burner of my mind,getting completely forgotten by my conscious thoughts until I reached the age where I was ready to recollect all the missing pieces. I hear my younger self screaming for my mother, once the bullet drills into her chest, making me race forwards towards her, praying that I could save her. Due to the momentum of the bullet, meeting its target, my mother's body stumbles and what no one realize was how close she wasto the flight of stairs, which causes me to move my little feet as quick as they can as I duck under my father's arms to reach my mother, in hopes of maybe healing her and making her stay longer with me. As I run past my father, his face is a blank state, showing no emotion what's so ever, as if it didn't matter that his common law wife of seven years was now dying by his own hands.