LUKE ~
“……That was the best part! The turtle just came out of the sewer and BAM!”
“That movie was a bit violent for me.”
“No way it was awesome!”
Laughing, my Mom took one of my hands while my Dad took the other, swinging out their arms to hold me up as I jumped.
“Did you enjoy the show Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings?” a man in a vest with a fancy, gold name tag questioned.
“It was lovely.” Mom answered politely.
“It was so cool!” I cried, “Everything blew up!”
“I’m glad you liked it.” The man chuckled, “You’ll have to come back again soon.”
“Will do.” Dad answered.
Talk then turned to boring stuff I didn’t care about, until Mom cleared her throat and said it was getting passed my bed time.
“Right, of course.” The man said, “Have a lovely evening, Mr. Hemmings, Mrs. Hemmings, Luke.”
Waving with a hand still greasy from popcorn I waited for my Mom to pull on her coat, then crouch down infront of me and fasten my buttons before starting for the large, glass front doors.
“Are you sure we should go that way Dear?” Dad questioned.
“What do you mean?” Mom asked.
“I’m sure they’ll be photographers.” He sighed.
I frowned, I had no idea what my parents did, I just knew they were away a lot and when they were I would stay with Nonna and her boyfriend Alfred.
“Let’s take the back.” Dad said, turning us around and steering us to the back door of the theater.
It was dark and we were in some kind of alley between two buildings, just walking. Dad had an arm around Mom’s shoulders while her’s was draped around his waist, I was skipping infront of them, imagining myself as a character in the movie, when I heard it.
Two bangs, a scream, and then a thud.
Turning around quickly my eyes widened at the sight of both my parents lying on the wet cement, as a man hastily ran away in the distance.
“Mom?” I cried, kneeling down next to her and shaking her shoulder, confused as to why her eyes were open, staring up at me, however were missing the light, warmth and love they normally had.
“Dad?” I sobbed, tapping his cheek, trying to ignore the blood spilling out and pooling in between them, soaking through my brand new sneakers.
“Mom?” I shouted, shaking her again, “Dad!”
Sitting bolt upright in bed I gasped. My body was covered in cold sweat, as were my damp sheets. Choking back a sob, I buried my face in my hands, remembering the night my parents had been murdered.
Glancing over at the clock on my night stand and seeing that it was only three in the morning I flopped back down on my pillow, and stared up at the ceiling, trying to forget the horrific images from my memories.
MICHAEL ~
I woke up to the sound of my parents arguing. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and glanced over at the alarm clock on my night stand.
Not surprised that it was three in the morning, since that was around the time my Mom usually got in, I swung my legs over the side of my bed. Quietly, so as not to wake Mason up, I crept through the dark room, out the door and into the dimly lit hall.
