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-February 23, Long Live The Reestablishment-
Why is she here? She isn't supposed to be here. She's supposed to be safe.
She's staring at me. Her eyes are tearing me apart. Those eyes will be dim soon. She looks stunned. Why is she stunned? Didn't she know that my father would bring me to watch?
“Sit down,” Anderson says impatiently.
I continue to look at Juliette. She's beautiful. She's wearing a harness that contours her shape. Her hair looks as silky as ever. I would happily go to the afterlife if she would just wear that damned suit as I die. Then I look at her neck.
There are marks. My father choked her. The thought comes accompanied with boiling rage. I can barely breath past the anger. I can feel my father getting more and more impatient so I swallow my anger, and sit. I am ridged.
“So I would like to know,” My father says, “how, exactly, you managed to get away.” He looks at Juliette. “I’m suddenly curious, and my son has made it very difficult to extract these details.”
Please, I've done nothing to deserve your mercy, but I beg you don't tell him, I'm itching to say. I hear my father laugh.
“Twice! You managed to escape twice! Incredible. Both times, then. How did you get away both times?” he asks.
"I jumped out of a window the first, and shot Warner the second," I hear her say as if through water.
“You shot him?” His voice lost all trace of humor. The voice he uses before the violence starts. I clench my hands in my lap. I can't show any emotion. I'm better than that.
“Yes,” She meets my gaze. Why, my love, do you do this to me? "I shot him. With his own gun.” I look down. I don't even realize I'm clenching my jaw.
They continue talking. I'm faintly aware of her asking about my fathers name. I can barely see past the panic clouding my vision. My love my life Juliette, you've just signed both of our death warrants.
My father reaches into his pocket, pulls out a gun, aims it at Juliette's forehead. My heart stops.
“I’m sick of always cleaning up after you,” he changes his mind and wrenches me up from the coach and shoves the gun in my hand.
"Shoot her. Shoot her now."
I'm staring at Juliette horror. no no no no no no no no. I can't. I can't. Juliette's face brings me back to the real world. I need to finish what I should have done years ago.
I point the gun at Juliette.
“Hurry up,” My father says. “The sooner you do this, the sooner you can move on. Now get this over with—"
I cock my head as if deciding what to do. Then turn around and poins the gun at my father. I hear Juliette gasp.
My father looks bored and irritated. He runs an impatient hand across his face before he pulls out another gun. He runs a hand across his face and pulls out another gun —how did I not notice it?— from his pocket.
“Point the gun in the right direction, Aaron. This is ridiculous.” he appears impatient but I can hear the thinly veiled malice.
"I have no interest in killing her," I say with as much confidence as I can muster.
“Fine. I’ll do it then.” he says while turning the gun to point at Juliette.
“Shoot her,” I say, “and I will put a bullet through your skull." I know down in my bones, that if he shoots her, I won't shoot him. He doesn't need to know that.
“How charming,” he says as if commenting on a piece of clothing. “What is it? Does she make you feel brave, boy? Does she make you feel strong?”
“Does she make you wish you could be a better man?” he says with a chuckle. “Has she filled your head with dreams about your future?” He full blown laughs.
I should say something. Why do I freeze up? I'm a coward.
“You have lost your mind,” he says, “over a stupid child who’s too much of a coward to defend herself even with the barrel of a gun pointed straight at her face. This,” he says while jabbing the gun in Juliette's direction, “is the silly little girl you’ve fallen in love with.” He exhales a short, furious breath. “I don’t know why I’m surprised.”
I tense up. My grip on my gun is tight enough to break steel. I will not back down. I must keep the focus off of Juliette. The more he pays attention to me, the more likely Juliette will make it out alive.
“How many times,” he asks, “have you threatened to kill me? How many times have I woken up in the middle of the night to find you, even as a little boy, trying to shoot me in my sleep? Ten times? Maybe fifteen? I have to admit I’ve lost count.”
He smiles. There aren't many things I'm afraid of, but that smile still haunts my mind. Im afraid of a fucking smile. “And how many times,” he says, raising his voice, “were you able to go through with it? How many times did you succeed? How many times,” he says, “did you burst into tears, apologizing, clinging to me like some demented-"
"Shut your mouth." I can't stand him belittling me like a child. I can't stand him acting like it isn't his fault. I can't stand the fact that I'm too weak to do anything more.
“You are weak,” he all but spits at me, like he can't even stand the idea of me. “Too pathetically sentimental. Don’t want to kill your own father? Too afraid it’ll break your miserable heart?”
“Shoot me,” he says with manic amusement. "I said shoot me!" He grabs my injured arm and twists.
I momentarily see white from the pain. It's blinding in its intensity. It feels like shrapnel sinking into all parts of my arm. I have to bite my lip to not scream.
He pushes me and I stumble back. I can barely stay up right. My sling is seeping with blood. My father is still berating me but I can't hear can't feel anything over the pain in my arm.
I hear a crack and it takes a second to register I've been slapped. I sway a bit, close to blacking out. I stare at him with no emotion in my face. Maybe this will finally kill me.
He yells at me while jamming the gun into my skull. Pull the trigger, I think, let me leave this cruel world where nothing is worth taking.
The next few seconds are a blur. I see Juliette pin my father against the wall. "Juliette-" I croak.
"Warner," she whispers softly. My only coherent though is, I want her to say my name like that again. "I'm going to need you to leave me alone right now."
Maybe I've died from blood loss. Maybe this is the end of my miserable life, I muse dimly, there are worse ways to go.
Juliette shoots my father. 1 Bang 2 Bang.
The last thing I see before I feel a stab in my neck and black out is Juliette lining up to kill my father.