7

 “YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” I roared, grabbing hold of my gun and pointing it straight at his face. There was no way that he was going to get away with speaking to me like this, and live to tell the fucking story. I didn’t care how important he was to my dad. Nobody took me for a dickhead and got away with it.

“See?” he snarled, smirking at the gun. “Your only answer. You’d kill your own family for giving you a reality check. When it’s only the truth that’s coming out of my mouth.”

“You little…” I cocked the gun, my patience wearing thin. Not wanting to listen to his bullshit any longer.

“Go on then, shoot me,” he hissed. “Shoot me, you bastard! I could do without being in this fucked up family anymore. SHOOT ME!”

I growled loudly. He wanted me to shoot him? Then his wish was my fucking command.

“You bastard,” I seethed, and pulled the fucking trigger. The bullet fell straight out of the gun, flying in his direction…

But Dad jumped in front of him.

“NOOOOOOOO!” I screamed bloody murder. “DAD, NO!”

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Jamal screamed, falling to the floor in anguish, sobbing.

“DAD, NO!” I wept, rushing to his body, taking him into my arms.

This had to be a bad dream.

This had to be a bad fucking dream.

I cried out to God internally, kicking and screaming, wishing that I would wake up.

Wishing that this nightmare would come to an end.

Dad’s hands were wrapped around his chest, his t-shirt soaked with blood from where the bullet had gone straight through him. My eyes fogged with tears.

“JAMAL, GET OUR DOCTOR!” I screamed. “GET OUR MOTHERFUCKING DOCTOR HERE RIGHT NOW!”

“I am, I am!” Jamal sobbed, bolting out of the room.

“Please Dad, please stay strong. Please keep fighting,” I wept, holding him close to me, my tears falling onto his body.

Drip.

Drop.

Drip.

Drop.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Dad…” I wept. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

I tore my sleeve off, doing my best to put pressure on the wound and stop the bleeding. Doing my best to keep air pumping through Dad’s body.

“You’re going to be okay, Dad… You’re gonna be okay…”

Dad struggled for air, his windpipes letting out a crushing wheezing sound that caused my ears to burn.

“Luca, please…” Dad breathed, his eyes fogging with tears.

“Help is on its way, Dad, I’m not giving up on you. The doc will take the bullet out, you’re gonna be fine…”

“Luca,” Dad said weakly, taking my face into his hands, forcing me to look him in his eyes. “P – please look at me…”

“I’m so sorry Dad. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was a fucking accident, I was meant to shoot Jamal, please…” I trailed off my sentence, feeling me drive myself to the brink of insanity.

“It’s okay, Luca. I don’t blame you, I forgive you…” Dad breathed shakily. “You’re my son. I love you.”

“Please don’t speak like this, Dad,” I wept. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine…” I turned around, trying to make out where the motherfucker Jamal had gone off to. “WHERE’S THE FUCKING DOCTOR?!” I roared desperately. “HURRY THE FUCK UP!”

“Let me die, Luca…” Dad whispered shakily. “Let me die. My time was coming a long time ago, anyway. I’ve overstayed my welcome in this world. I-”

“NO DAD!” I bellowed. “I need you. The family needs you. We’re nothing without you. Don’t speak like this. Don’t you fucking dare speak like this!”

I continued to pump his chest desperately, desperately doing my best to keep him breathing before the doctors arrived.

Pump. Pump. Pump.

“It’s okay, Luca…” Dad swallowed. “I was a dead man walking for a long time. My life was at the bottom of an alcohol bottle. I haven’t been right ever since Violetta died…”

“No Dad, you have so much left to live for,” I sobbed. “We all need you. I can’t lose both of you. I can’t live without both my mum and my dad…”

“Let me go, Luca…” Dad continued to weaken underneath my strong gasp, his voice getting quieter and quieter, to the point it was barely above a whisper. “It’s okay. I can hear her… I can hear her voice. Her beautiful, sweet voice. I missed her so much. My love. Violetta…”