I looked into the eyes of the one pointing a gun at me. I didnt see a potential killer, but a child frightened and desperate. Instead of a steady hand, the gun moved haphazardly as his hand trembled with fear. Put the gun down son, I said calmly, trying not to force him into a reaction hed undoubtedly regret. Im no longer your son. You killed me remember. I woke with sweat pouring from my brow. How could I forget? Every day I wrestle with the knowledge that I made the wrong choice grabbing the gun.
Posted on: Sun, 31 Aug 2014 15:00:51 +0000
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015