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Neil hated the silence. It was the worst thing he had ever heard, because he hadn't heard anything. That wasn't right.
Everything leading up to it had sounded right. When he got out of bed, it creaked. When he walked to the window, there were soft footsteps. When he opened the window, the rustling of wind.
The clunks as Neil shuffled around his father's desk. The dull thump as he sat at his father's desk. A dejected sigh. A sharp intake of breath. And then? The click as he cocked the gun. His fingers pressed hard against the trigger, and Neil waited for the sound.
A bang, a pew, a crack, whatever. A shot. However, the sound never came. Then there was the huffs and puffs, hyperventilating. Sobs. Soon they were joined by more sobs, even screams, but those ones weren't his, were they? No. His parents. Why were they...?
Then, a horrible sound. His mother's voice piped up, dripping relief, but for Neil it was the sound of hopelessness.
"It wasn't loaded! Tom, it wasn't loaded!"
As he was pulled into an embrace and voices he couldn't focus on drifted through his ears, Neil kept waiting for the sound of the gun. The sound of escape. However, it never came.