THE WILD CAT

I arrived home from school, opening the door slowly. It was 8 PM, and I was extremely late. I knew my parents would be deeply upset with me. I was about to turn eighteen next week, and I saw this as becoming an adult, free to do whatever I wanted. However, my parents still treated me like a four-year-old child. This made me angry sometimes.

I understood why they were overprotective. I was their only child. My mother became infertile after having me. Despite my openness to the idea, my father refused to adopt another child. He wanted to keep their focus entirely on me.

I opened the door and immediately bowed my head. "I'm sorry for coming late," I said, clapping my hands together in a pleading gesture. "Susan and I had some projects to work on." I lied, using my best friend Susan as an excuse. In truth, she had suggested we go to the park, and from there, we explored the whole city.

I didn't get any response. "They must be really mad at me," I whispered, my head still bowed down. I thought about what to do next.

"I'm hungry," I said quickly. I knew my mother hated when I said those words. She would be forced to make something for me, as she didn't like how skinny I was and always told me to eat more or I would get sick.

Still, there was no response. I slowly raised my head, expecting to see my mother's angry glare, but no one was in sight. "No one is here," I said, feeling a little confused. I removed my shoes and started calling out for them. "Mother, Father," I called, but still got no response, making me worried.

I rushed toward their room but stopped when I heard my parents' voices. “How could you get yourself into something like that?” I heard my mother scolding my dad. Her tone made me curious about what they were discussing, so I walked closer to eavesdrop.

“I didn’t mean to put you guys in danger,” my father uttered. I could hear the fear in his voice.

“What danger?” I wondered, trying to piece together what they were talking about.

“Of course, you didn’t! If only you had listened to me, none of this would have happened,” my mother yelled. I flinched. I had never heard her shout this loud before. She was always calm and composed when speaking to my father, so I knew the matter must be serious.

Before my father could respond, I entered the room, making them look at me. “What’s going on here?” I asked, giving both my mother and father a strange look.

“Riley,” my mother called out before rushing to me and pulling me into a tight hug. I could see the stains of tears on her cheeks as she embraced me.

I patted her back gently. “Mom, what’s wrong?” I asked, looking over at my father, who had turned his head away from me.

I raised my eyebrows. “Did Dad say something?” I groaned, giving my dad a stern look. “Don’t worry, Mom, he probably didn’t mean it,” I said, hoping the situation wasn’t as serious as it seemed and was just one of their petty arguments.

“Darling, we need to leave now,” my father said. His words made my mother pull away from me.

“Mom, leave where?” I immediately asked, confused by what my father meant.

“My dear, you need to go pack your bags,” my mother told me, caressing my cheeks with a trembling hand. Her eyes were filled with fear and urgency, making my heart race.

“Bags… what? Why?” I stuttered, completely oblivious to what was going on.

“I will tell you everything. Just go pack your bag. We are leaving,” my mother insisted, holding my hand. I jerked my hand away from her, making her look stunned. But I didn't care right now; I couldn’t just leave my home.

“You both need to tell me what is going on right now!” I yelled. I knew my tone was rude, but I had the right to know. I couldn’t just leave everything behind and move to a new place without even informing my friends, especially Susan.

My mother immediately grabbed my arm. “Why don’t you understand that we need to leave this place at once?” she said, her grip tightening.

“No, I am not leaving!” I shouted, pushing my mother away from me. She stumbled a little, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperation.

At that moment, the tension in the room grew thicker. My father stepped forward, his face pale and drawn. “Riley, please, just listen to us,” he pleaded. His voice cracked, and the seriousness of the situation started to dawn on me, but I stood my ground, demanding answers.

My mother turned to look at me with a frown plastered on her face. “I am not leaving, okay? You both can leave, but I am not leaving,” I said, standing my ground. This wasn’t the first time they had made me pack and leave our home.

“This isn’t the time to be stubborn, Riley,” I heard my father say, making me look at him.

“You are right. This is actually the time for you both to start telling me why we keep moving like criminals!” I yelled. My mother’s eyes widened at my choice of words, and immediately, I felt a sting on my face. She had slapped me hard. My father gasped.

“You will go in there and pack your things, or else,” my mother threatened me. But I couldn’t think about anything except the sting on my cheek. This was the first time my mother had slapped me.

“I hate you,” I told her before running downstairs. I made my way out of the house, running as fast as I could. I heard my mother calling after me, but I didn’t listen. I kept running, my heart pounding with anger and confusion.

I had been running so long that I didn’t realize how far I was from home. The night was dark and scary. “I should go back home,” I said to myself, realizing that a young girl staying out this late wasn’t a good idea.

When I got home, I saw the front door was open. I assumed my parents had left it that way. “I shouldn’t go through the front door,” I said to myself, heading toward the secret ladder I used to climb into my room. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to my parents.

I reached the ladder and climbed up, slipping into my room. I was about to close the window when I heard a voice say, “You both have to die.” My eyebrows raised in confusion.

“What was that?” I muttered, thinking maybe they were watching TV. I was about to close the window when I heard my father’s voice. “Please don’t harm her. It’s me you want,” he said, his voice filled with desperation and fear.

My eyes widened as I slowly walked toward the sound to check it out. I got to where the voices were coming from and gasped before hiding around the corner. I saw my father and mother on the floor, surrounded by several masked men.

“Who are those people?” I muttered to myself, unsure of what was going on.

“How dare you think you can escape from the bosses without paying for your actions,” one of the masked men said, pointing a gun at my father’s head. I gasped but quickly covered my mouth to prevent anyone from hearing me as I watched from afar.

“Please, I promise to pay for my actions. Whatever the bosses want, I will give them. Just please, spare my family,” my father pleaded. The man shook his head.

“It is too late for consideration,” the man said, and with that, he pulled the trigger, shooting my father in the head. Blood splattered, and my father collapsed lifelessly to the floor.

A scream built up inside me, but I held it back, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to run to my mother, to save her, but I was frozen in place, terrified and helpless.

My eyes widened as my mother screamed, "No!" Before she could reach my father, the man shot her in the head too.

My knees suddenly became weak, and I collapsed to the floor. What just happened in front of me? My mind tried to process the horror I had just witnessed. Suddenly, my phone started ringing, making the men alert. "Who is there?" the man who shot my parents demanded, sending his men to check.

I heard footsteps approaching. I was too weak to stand up and run. My legs were numb with fear and shock. As the footsteps grew closer, I finally accepted that this might be my last moment on earth. I curled into a ball, tears streaming down my face, praying for a miracle, or at least a quick end.