Chapter 33

Randy's POV

'Mark! Mark! Come on, wake up! You're really starting to worry me here. If this is a joke, I swear I'm going to punch you' I shout at Mark's limp body. He was running down the stairs when he lost his balance and fell over the side of the banister.

I don't even know who or what he was running from. I had just got back from Wilson's house when I saw him on the staircase.

I hear the thud of a window closing somewhere in the house. This wouldn't bother me except for the fact that nobody else is home. Then I hear footsteps in the hallway upstairs.

I abandon my post by Mark to try to find something to protect myself and Mark with. In the kitchen I find a large bread knife, and then silently wait for the person to come downstairs.

While I'm waiting, a thousand thoughts race through my head. Maybe I should grab the phone and call 9-1-1. No, it would take them too long. Maybe I should go back over to Wilson's. He could help. No, the mystery person would probably catch me in the act. I guess I don't have a choice but to stay here and face this on my own.

Finally I hear a creaking sound that announces the perpetrator's presence on the lower flight of stairs. I step out into the open, wielding my knife somewhat awkwardly. I immediately recognize the man standing over Mark's body as Joakim Paris, one of the people indicted with charges of killing dad. He got off because the prosecution couldn't prove beyond reasonable doubt he had been on the highway the night dad was killed.

'What are you doing?' I demand.

'I came here to get the money your dad owed me, and I still intend to do so, one way or another' he says, intentionally revealing his pistol to me.

'Now you can either give me the money, or your brother here is going to suffer the same fate you almost did four months ago' he threatens, brandishing his pistol and pointing it toward Mark's head.

'We…I…I don't have- Well, how much money do you want?' I stammer.

'150,000 dollars. That's how much your father owes me total' answers the man.

'I don't have that much money' I explain.

'Incorrect answer' he says, then readjusts the aim of his pistol to Mark's upper thigh. Then he pulls the trigger.

'Wanna try that again? Next time, he will get it in the head' Paris says.

Before I have a chance to respond, there's a knock at the door. I look at Paris, who shakes his head no, smiling maliciously all the while. I obey, and remain motionless and silent, absent mindedly rubbing my thumb on the handle of the now useless bread knife.

There's another knock.

'Detroit PD! Open up!' commands a powerful voice that I don't recognize. Once again, Paris shakes his head, only he's giving me a serious look now that says "Just try to open that door, and you'll be dead before you get half way there".

'We just want to know if everyone is alright in there' the voice outside the door shouts.

'Yes, we're doing just peachy officer. You can leave now' Paris says in a mock polite voice. Then he adds 'If you try to come in here though, then we might have some medical problems'.

A few moments of silence pass by before there's a thud at the front door. Then another one, and finally the door goes flying off its hinges, courtesy of one of Detroit's finest.

'Freeze!' he shouts.

'Alright, I warned you what would happen if you came in' Joakim Paris growls. Even though the police officer is standing right in the middle of the room, he still spins around, picks Mark's body up, and thrusts the gun right in the middle of Mark's head. The policeman fires his revolver at Paris, but misses, and hits Mark instead. He's quick to fire off a second shot, which hits Paris in the shin.

I go running over to Mark, who's laying in a pool of blood that is quickly increasing in size.

'This is Officer Lark. I need a bus at 510 Glenview Road for a GSW to the head' the officer says into one of those radio things that cops carry.

Once Officer Lark pries Mark away from me (to try to control the bleeding), I notice that I am drenched in blood.

'Randy, can you hear me? Randy, your nose is bleeding. Can you hear me? Randy?' I hear Mark say. I sit straight up in bed when I realize I had only been dreaming. Then I realize that I am in fact covered in blood (albeit my own), and that my nose is bleeding.

Wait a second, how can my nose be bleeding?


A/N: Sorry for yet another long wait in between updates. I swear, some day soon, I will get all of my stories caught up, and will start regularly updating again. It's just going to take me a little while.

As always, please R&R if you're still reading this.

Thanks for reading and for not completely giving up on me or this story.

Be sure to keep an eye out for the next chapter, because it will have the much anticipated birthday surprise in it.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor