I was devastated, I felt so bad, I lost my brothers, my father, and my mom. For the first time in a long time, I cried. I cried for everything that had happened, I cried for all the bittersweet memories, remembering Max's face as he slept next to me, the time my mom put me to sleep, the camping trip with dad, the times Alex and I actually got along, before Max, before the accident. Before the murders, I sobbed so loud and so hard.
"Why?!" I asked.
"Why, did this have to happen?!" I punched the bed frame, with blood coming out of my fist.
I sucked on my bleeding hand and looked at it.
I stared, the pain seemed to bring me back to reality.
I got up and went to the sink, rinsing the blood and wondering as the water purged my hand of the red liquid on how it felt to die.
I never really asked myself that question up until now, but I thought about it long and hard.
Was my mom in a better place, or was she gone, lost forever.
I thought about Alex and Max, they came back, so why couldn't mom?
I know it must be true, she would be here if she could right?
I wondered aloud to myself, "why?"
I know why Alex came back, because he was killed, same as Max.
Were they friends, did they miss me too, I asked myself.
I needed them now more than ever before, just to see them again.
I opened the cabinet door, grabbed a band-aid and bandaged the wound.
I looked into the mirror and saw myself, disheveled, tired, exhausted, but still here, still alive.
I came downstairs and went out the door, inserting the keys into the ignition, my dad's purple car roared to life.
As I entered the parking lot, I saw police cruisers everywhere, I was enraged, couldn't they leave me alone?
I got out of the car and saw police tape on the door, I walked over to the nearest officer, frustrated.
"Hey, what's the big idea?" I yelled, "what's going on?"
"The building is on lockdown, no one is allowed in or out," he told me.
I stared at him, my mouth agape, "you're joking, right?"
"Look, I'm sorry, Mister Malone, but there was a prison riot," he explained.
"A, a riot, what are you saying?" I asked him, surprised.
"Well, it appears that someone stole one of the guards keys and choked him to death with chicken wire, said individual opened up all of the cell doors and all the inmates started rioting. We were able to suppress the riot but a few of the inmates escaped. Apparently, in all the chaos, your father was able to escape and currently, he's on the lam," he said.
"Why are you telling me this? I asked him, "haven't I been through enough?"
"Listen, don't you get it, your life is in danger, your father is a dangerous criminal," he said.
I punched him right in the jaw, enjoying the adrenaline, I had felt, this was for all I had been through and all I saw was red.
"Don't you dare talk about my father, pig!" I yelled at him.
Two officers restrained me, as the other one got up and punched me in the face, angrily brandishing his baton, "big mistake."
"That's enough!" Lieutenant Schmidt yelled, "that's an order."
"You're just lucky, Schmidt's here," he grumbled, "yes sir."
"Shaun, what on Earth did you do that for?" Mike asked me, stunned, "I mean really Shaun."
"He, he insulted my father," I told him.
"Shaun, look, I know it must be hard for you to understand, but you gotta face facts, like it or not, your dad is a killer, I'm sorry it's come to this, but you need to let it go," he told me, "believe me, it's not worth it."
"Ok, fine," I muttered, "I guess I should've known better, I'm sorry," I apologized.
"Eh, I guess, just don't do it again," the policeman said, still rubbing his jaw, "that really hurt."
"So, no work?" I asked him.
"Nope, sorry about that," he said, "the night watchman can stay but that's it."
"Oh, alright then, I guess I had better head home, thanks," I said walking away.
"Shaun wait," Mike said, "so you wanna cup of coffee, come on, I'l take you to Dunkin Donuts, my treat," he said.
"Thanks, I think I will take you up on your offer," I told him.
"It's Ok, follow me," he said.
I got into the car, leaving Freddy's and looked at the building one last time.
When we got in, Mike ordered a box of glazed donuts, a latte, and and cappuccino for himself.
"So things are tough, huh?" he asked me.
"Yeah, I guess they are," I told him.
"It's Ok, you don't need to tell me if you don't want to," he said.
"I guess, I mean I've been feeling so bad ever since Max died," I told him, "and then the next day, with, with Alex, sometimes, it's just hard y'know."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said.
"I used to have a friend, just like you, he was a good guy, but then things happened, he changed, and not for the better if you know what I mean, he started losing focus of the things that really mattered, he lost his job, foreclosure, just awful stuff, then one day, he snapped. I found him, lying on the sidewalk, a needle in his arm, he died the next day," he said, "I know it's hard, believe me, I know, but I just don't want you to feel like you're the only one, like no one will ever know the pain, the burden, you carry, I'm here for you, in case you need anyone, anybody to talk to, I'm your friend Shaun, and I care about you."
"Thanks Mike, I really needed that," I told him, "I just don't want to be alone," I told him.
"You're not alone," he told me, "I promise," and with that he gave me a hug.
I got back up and wiped the tears off my face, "I should probably get going, I have to leave a message for Jeremy," I told him, I said shaking my head.
"Yeah, it's Ok, I get it," he told me.
"Thanks for the coffee, I said.
"You're welcome," he said.
I went back home, and thought about what Jeremy had said, "well, I guess, I'll just take it easy then," I turned on the TV, and watched some movies.
