Family Ties: Past Lives
1. Kara
Kara flinches.
The shot is loud enough to make her ears ring, and yet she can still hear Alice's panicked scream in the background.
Time slows; she breathes in, opens her eyes.
Gunpowder has a dusty smell to it, yet it's a lot more metallic than she thought it would be. It spreads across her vision like a cloud, blurring it even more than it already was. She didn't expect this at all when she picked up the gun five seconds ago.
Then again, she's never held a gun before, let alone fired one. She wasn't sure what to expect.
Now she knows.
Todd stares at her, eyes wide and disbelieving.
She pulls the trigger again.
She flinches.
Her hands move automatically, unable to keep still when the recoil kicks in.
Alice screams again.
Another pause; another deep breath.
Another shot.
A final scream.
Todd falls to the ground, all life leaving him. Blood pours from his wounds, staining the wooden floor. Kara doesn't move, hands trembling, breathing in the metallic scent of gunpowder and fire.
Behind her, Alice starts crying.
Kara might be in shock, but she's smart enough to know that a loaded weapon is always dangerous. She delicately leaves the gun on the table next to her, and turns towards her daughter.
"It's okay." She tries to sound reassuring, but her voice breaks, and she nearly coughs when a mouthful of gunpowder enters her mouth. "It's okay, Alice. He won't hurt you anymore. He'll never hurt you again."
Alice hesitates, eyes flickering between her and Todd's body in pure horror.
Kara is terrified.
Eventually, the little girl hugs her, tears flowing freely.
The young woman wipes them away. "Come, now, Alice. Don't cry, not yet. We need to get out of here first."
Her ears are still ringing from the three consecutive shots as she manages to put the safety back on the pistol, before tucking it away in the inside pocket of her jacket. She grabs a piece of cloth she uses to clean all traces of Alice and her from the house — they arrived a couple of hours ago, but haven't touched much. Todd doesn't like — never liked it when people touched his things.
Even his family.
If family treats each other like shit, and beats each other up for no reason than pleasure, then I'd rather have no family at all.
A glance at Alice.
Alice… she's family. She's the only family I will ever have.
It doesn't sound nearly as bad as it should.
Alice is oddly quiet as they leave.
They check into a motel — with cash, of course, Kara is in shock, but that doesn't make her an idiot —, where both take showers, taking care of scrubbing their skin and hair clean of whatever traces of gunpowder they might have left. There can be no trace left, or else…
Kara refuses to think about that outcome.
Alice is still quiet as she tucks her in, and doesn't ask for a bedtime story. Unusual, but the young woman doesn't blame her. She's gone through so much in the span of one afternoon — too much, perhaps.
She should never have brought Alice to Todd. She should have left that bastard behind her long ago, when she left for a higher degree, for a better life. Alice shouldn't have had to endure the same treatment she had when she was younger.
Kara blames herself. She should have noticed he was beating her up. How could she not notice?
The next day, she drives to another part of town and drops their gunpowder-filled clothes in a random dumpster. She manages to tear the gun apart piece by piece, and drives around the city, disposing of each different part in a different dumpster.
Her hands shake whenever she picks up each piece.
Her ears haven't stopped ringing since.
Her heart is pounding as fast as it had when she'd pulled the trigger.
They have to leave. They need to leave this all behind. But they can't do it immediately — the police will easily suspect them if they leave town.
And Alice is still too shell-shocked to do anything. She can barely move, barely eat. Kara can't help but worry. It's all her fault; she should've been more careful — she should've done more.
Once the coast is clear — as clear as it will ever get —, Kara starts looking for a new job.
And she finds one, in another city, in another state.
Philadelphia sounds far enough.
Alice doesn't complain — but then again, she has said little since the incident. She refuses to speak to anyone but Kara, and even then it's not much at all.
Maybe this move will do both of them good. Maybe a new life is exactly what they need. Detroit never brought them anything good — except, perhaps, each other. But does that really count, considering Kara let her own daughter down for so many years?
It's time to move on.
They deserve a new life.
A better life.