PROLOGUE
17 0 2
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

“You wanna give it a try, Leah?” my father held out his revolver for me. A river ran between the two snow covered peaks down to where I stood. In the golden rays of the setting sun, a deer and her fawn were drinking water.

“I won’t always be around to help you, you know,” father said. I gripped the gun. Heavy. At thirteen years old, it was about time I learned how to take care of myself. Father hadn’t been blessed with a son, so I was the next best thing.

I raised the gun, and shut one eye. “Pull this little hammer back,” Father instructed. I did. He then helped me align the barrel with the deer and covered my ears with his large palms. “Whenever you’re ready, take the shot.”

After a deep breath, I did. Birds startled by the noise fluttered away from a nearby tree. The deer and her fawn dashed away into the abyss of the forest.

“There goes our dinner..” father sighed. It wasn’t the first time I had missed, but he never failed to stay positive.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “They’re just living in peace, not trying to hurt us, I can’t..”

“Death is a part of life, either them or us, the way god intended,” he tried to cheer me up. “Don’t you worry, we still have some stew from earlier back home.”

We wandered back to the farm. Maria, my little sister, sat on the rope swing hanging from the old oak outside.

“Daddy!!!” she ran and gave him a big hug. We had been out all day, afterall.

“How’s my little princess?” he asked.

“Mommy taught me how to knit!”

“Oh, knit your sister a pair of winter gloves, will you? It won’t be long before the first snowfall”

“Sure thing daddy!” Maria skipped inside, we followed.

Mother sat in her rocking chair, knitting.

“Welcome back, loves. Did you catch anything?” She had lit the fireplace which made the room flicker. I took my shoes off in the warmth, they had been soaked in the river.

“Nope, but we’ll try again tomorrow,” father told her. “Leah is getting better and better.” A lie.

“How wonderful,” mother laid what she knitted on the rocking chair. We all headed to the kitchen where mother reheated the stew, then sat down together.

It was at that moment they burst through the door. There was a loud ear-ringing bang, and before I knew it, my father lay dead on the floor. One of them grabbed my mother who sat frozen in shock, and forcefully dragged her outside. Neither my sister nor I could quite comprehend what had just happened, so there was little resistance when they covered our mouths before we both passed out.

2