That D*mn Fan

April 26, 2011
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“Tim, you can’t stay up all night playing those d*mn video games alright! I want you in bed by eleven sharp!”
“Dad I’m fifteen years old, I can do what I want!”
“ You can do what you want; alright, now you can’t play at all.
“No, you go to sleep now.”
I slammed the door shut.
As I walked out I slipped on my sons skateboard, I landed on the ground bashing the back of my head against the floor, looking up at that d*mn fan I promised my wife I would fix two weeks ago. It wouldn’t stop clicking if it was mocking me, or laughing at me because I fell.

Anyways I walked into my daughter’s room to make sure she was asleep. I peaked in her door to blow her a kiss when I saw that she’s awake and crying. I run and flicked the switch to turn on the lights. Her room is pink, just like any old typical six year olds room. It has Barbie dolls all over the place. I ran up to my daughter and said, “What’s wrong Princess.” In her weeping voice she tells she had a nightmare. And guys with all black on ran into her room and took her away. I told that everything is fine and it was just a dream. I tucked her back into bed, and told everything was alright. I flipped the light switch off and walked into my room. And there she was, the women I married. Laying flat on my bed, looking half dead, with a little tinkle of drool comingyf her mouth, I wipe it off accidently woke her up, I said “you look so cute when you drool.” She chuckled a little, and told me to get my a** to bed, and stop waking her up. I lie in bed, I just thought to myself. This is my life; it’s the life I chose, not the life that chose me. I look at where I am in my life, and, I am proud of the family I raised with my half concourse wife on my bed, looking like a beast, but a beast I will always love no matter what. I then flick the lights off.
At around three o’clock in the morning I hear a bashing sound on the door. My wife and I wake up; she looks at me and says who in the world would be at our house at three in the morning. She tells me to go down and check. Being the big strong and mighty husband I am I walked downstairs to see who it was. I opened the door and no one was there. I walked outside. When I heard a voice so loud that it made my heart drop, it was the voice of my daughter. I ran back into my house when a sharp blow hits me in the back of the head. I fall to my knees. I see in front of me three very large men, dressed in black with ski masks on. My son, my daughter, and my wife, are laying there in front of me, all innocent awaiting their fate. The sounds out of my wife and daughter were of one of a horror movie. The three gunmen were of some gang. It was initiation time for the new gunman. The, man probably the leader takes out his gun. The gun he bashed me in the back of the head with. He takes it out looks me in the eyes and points it in my daughter’s mouth. I began screaming frantically as I hoped the gunman would change his mind. He lifted the gun out of her mouth. He walks up to my son. I beg him to please stop, and, as the blood drip on the floor from the open wound in the back of my head. He looks me straight in the eye and said, “if you won’t let me do you it, you’re going to. He has the rest of the gang members take out there guns, and he gives me his gun. I feel the cold steel blade, on my neck. He yells, “Pick.” I never felt a gun in my hand. I struggle to even point at my family. He yells, “I am going to gave you ten seconds to pick or I kill you and your family.”
He begins to countdown. I can’t make a clear decision. I hear the numbers going down. Should I shoot my daughter, no, no, no I can never do that she’s got her whole life ahead of her. Should I shoot my son, I cannot I would never live with my self. Should I shoot my wife, but I love her with an all my heart. He said, “Five.” The numbers were pounding in my chest. “Three,” he said. “Two” he said. Their faces all scared, crying. There so innocent. I couldn’t choose, so I shot my gun, and at the end of the trigger pull, time just stopped. The bullet reaches half way to her body. My eyes lock with hers, one small tear slowly falls down her face. I just whispered, “You look cute when you drool honey, I love you,” and at the moment time sped up. I blinked my eyes, and she was dead. I dropped the gun and started to cry. The gang member runs out the door looks back and pulls the trigger as the bullet enters the back of my head. They all congratulates there new gang member and run out. My lifeless body just lays there looking at the ceiling, as that d*mn fan keeps going click, click, click.

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