Tribute or Victor

Chapter 2

You wake up with a groan, rolling over and snuggling your face deeper into your pillow. Wait? My pillow? Your body jerks up and you look around, realizing your still in the living room. The red and black checkered fabrics of the loveseat is underneath you, and your pillow is resting on the arm. Your knees are curled up slightly, and the lamp is turned off, leaving only the dim light of the tv to let you see your surroundings.

You reach over to the in-table, twisting the small knob on the lamp until it clicks, and the room is illuminated with an orange tinted light. "Dad? Trinity," you call out tiredly, hoping to hear a response. That is until you hear the sweet, caring, unforgettable voice of your long lost mother.

"How could you let this happen," she whispers, making you jump. She was gone. She had disappeared five years ago. This wasn't possible, she was gone! You jump up off the small couch, spinning around to try and see where the voice was coming from.

"Mom," you call out, the word coming out worried and confused.

"How could you let this happen," a different voice calls out this time, a deep almost growl like sound coming from behind you. You know this voice, but the tone that seeps into the words makes it almost unrecognizable, because it had only ever been used around you a few times. Your fathers. But now it's angry. No angry isn't a strong enough word. Hatred seeps into his words like venom into a snakebite.

You spin around, only to be met with the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room. "Dad," you cry, running into the kitchen. Nothing except clean counters and old pots on the stove greet you. Heavy breaths escape your lips as another voice calls out to you.

"Why didn't you save me," the sad voice of your little sister calls out from the living room. Tears are dripping down your cheeks as you run back into the front room. There you are met with your mother, father, and little sister all standing in a short row, holding hands.

Three different emotions are displayed on their faces. Your mothers face is calm but heartbroken. Pure hatred is showing on your fathers face, but your little sisters expression is the worst. Pain. Pure pain. But it's not physical.

"Why didn't you save me," she begs a second time, sounding on the verge of tears. Your unable to say anything. Just stand there as tears run down your cheeks. It's like your feet have been superglued to the floor, and no amount of strength would be able to pry them loose.

Suddenly three peacekeepers walk up behind each member of your family, walking straight through them like they weren't even there, dissolving them to dust and ash, but a scream comes from your sisters lips, dissolving just like their images. The peacekeepers stride up to your frozen body about five feet in front of you and lift their guns up, aiming them at you. The last thing you hear is the bullets leaving the small pistols.

"No! No," you scream, strangled cry's originating from the back of your throat. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks as you frantically look around, realizing your in your bedroom. Your blue quilt is pulled up to your shoulders, and your lamp is turned off. With shaking hands, you reach over quickly, fumbling with the lamp switch before your bedroom is illuminated with the same glow the living room had in your dream.

Remembering the horrifying image, you jump out of bed, rushing out of your room and into the hallway. You hear voices coming from the kitchen and you practically roll down the stairs, landing with a loud thud on the first floor. Quickly recovering from the rough landing, you run into the kitchen, almost sobbing with relief when you see your dad and little sister playing a card game on the dining room table.

"(Y/n)," your dad asks worriedly, standing up and rushing over to you. "What's wrong sweetheart," he asks, wrapping his arms around you tightly, and you melt into his embrace.