By Wayne Harris-Wyrick (photo prompt)
She was even sure how the gun got there. But she knew why it was there.
To kill the person who had killed her mother.
Renee stared at the gun, not knowing if she could even aim it, let alone pull the trigger. She had never even held a gun in her hands before. How heavy is a gun?
Mother. She would know what to do. She always tried helped Renee keep her focus, even though she sometimes got too nosey.
“Carri, you handle it. She was your mother, too. You are always much better at that sort of stuff then I am,” Renee said.
A few seconds later, Carri picked up the gun, tested its weight a few times in her hand then held it up, pointed it at the wall. “Bang, bang,” she said, pretending to pull the trigger, smiling at whatever thought went through her head at that moment. “That’d be cool. But I think Blake could handle this better. He is stronger then either of us.” Putting the gun back on the table, she said “Blake, you take it. Avenge our mother.”
A thin smile spread on his face, his eyes barely slits, as he picked the gun up and easily, casually tossed it from hand to hand. “No problem,” Blake said. “You both knew all along I was the only one who could do this. Just like I had to take care of our other problem.”
There was a knock on the door. “Renee, honey, this is Aunt Sarah. Can I come in?”
Renee threw the gun under the pillow on her bed and opened the door for her aunt. “Hi, Sarah.”
“Are you Renee?” Sarah asked “I am worried about you. Since your mother was…since she died, I think you need someone to look after you. It’s too bad you never had any brothers of sisters to help you. When you hear those voices, you don’t always make good decisions. When was the last time you took your chlorpromazine or saw your therapist? You need to keep that up so you can get better.”
Renee spoke to Blake, but where only she, Carri and Blake could hear her, in their private spot in her head, “Blake, you may need to do another job first.”
She was even sure how the gun got there. But she knew why it was there.
To kill the person who had killed her mother.
Renee stared at the gun, not knowing if she could even aim it, let alone pull the trigger. She had never even held a gun in her hands before. How heavy is a gun?
Mother. She would know what to do. She always tried helped Renee keep her focus, even though she sometimes got too nosey.
“Carri, you handle it. She was your mother, too. You are always much better at that sort of stuff then I am,” Renee said.
A few seconds later, Carri picked up the gun, tested its weight a few times in her hand then held it up, pointed it at the wall. “Bang, bang,” she said, pretending to pull the trigger, smiling at whatever thought went through her head at that moment. “That’d be cool. But I think Blake could handle this better. He is stronger then either of us.” Putting the gun back on the table, she said “Blake, you take it. Avenge our mother.”
A thin smile spread on his face, his eyes barely slits, as he picked the gun up and easily, casually tossed it from hand to hand. “No problem,” Blake said. “You both knew all along I was the only one who could do this. Just like I had to take care of our other problem.”
There was a knock on the door. “Renee, honey, this is Aunt Sarah. Can I come in?”
Renee threw the gun under the pillow on her bed and opened the door for her aunt. “Hi, Sarah.”
“Are you Renee?” Sarah asked “I am worried about you. Since your mother was…since she died, I think you need someone to look after you. It’s too bad you never had any brothers of sisters to help you. When you hear those voices, you don’t always make good decisions. When was the last time you took your chlorpromazine or saw your therapist? You need to keep that up so you can get better.”
Renee spoke to Blake, but where only she, Carri and Blake could hear her, in their private spot in her head, “Blake, you may need to do another job first.”