Short fiction story/abandoned project
Tw: death, gun use, reference abuse
It was my sixteenth birthday.
I took the stand, against my lawyers advice. Before the prosecutor even got a chance to open his mouth I spoke. "I shot him. I killed him. I didn't even give him a chance to fight back. I shot him multiple times to make sure he wouldn't get up. I let him bleed out on the kitchen floor. I waited till his muscles went stiff, before I called the cops and I don't regret it one bit." As I sat on the stand motionless, listening to the chaos my words stirred in the court. As I watched the judge trying to calm the room, my mind began to replay the crime.
I remembered I didn't hesitate, I just pulled the trigger. It was my first time shooting something other than those targets at the shooting range with my father, but the second I saw that tattoo, I knew I had to kill him. I knew what that tattoo meant, it confirmed that my suspicion about what was happening my brother was confirmed.
That man I shot wasn't human, he was a monster. A monster with a blue spiral triangle tattooed on his skin. He felt no shame, he was so comfortable with his crimes he had it tattooed on his skin for the world to see.
I knew the consequences before I pulled the trigger. I knew I would spend the rest of my life in jail for killing my father but that was the price I was willing to pay to keep my brother safe.
I don't know why my father was surprised when I shot him. After all he was the one to taught me to shoot so I could defend my family from the monsters that live amongst us.